


The Actor and the Athlete

by ccmoore



Category: Marvel (Movies), Olympics RPF, Real Person Fiction, Swimming RPF, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies), Tom Hiddleston — Fandom
Genre: Competition, F/M, Long Distance Relationship, Love, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sex, Sexual Fantasy, Shower Sex, Slow Build, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-16
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-01-15 22:14:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 48
Words: 77,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1321132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ccmoore/pseuds/ccmoore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kate Miller has suddenly been thrust into the spotlight, out from the comfort of her own little bubble. As she tries to take back control, she meets Tom Hiddleston. Will her life turn completely upside down?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Thanks for stumbling across my story! The Actor and the Athlete combines my love of all random things: Tom (duh!), swimming, the Olympics, the Hunger Games, Power Rangers, hot European guys, Hollywood style and epic romances. Obviously to fit my story, I have changed some things (like the actor who plays Johanna Mason in HG, for example) to make it work. It's nothing against that person/thing — it just happened for a reason! 
> 
> Thanks for checking out my story! If you think of it, please leave your feedback; I really appreciate it! Enjoy!

_You can see the dress I refer to here: http://jenadaily.tumblr.com/post/77563685800_

I’m not really a vain person. Seriously, I’m not. But you would never know that by the way I’m staring at myself in the mirror, checking my appearance every five minutes. I was about to pull my blonde hair up into a messy pony tail — for the fourth time — before my brother’s voice mumbled from behind me.

“It’s fine,” he said, not even bothering looking up from his game of Angry Birds. “If you keep messing with your hair it’s all going to fall out.”

Knowing I was caught, again, I put my arms to my side and walked over to the couch to join my brother, still wondering if I should have left my hair curly, as it naturally is, instead of straightening it. I debated the question in my head while blankly staring at a chair. Instead of finding a reason, I stared at my brother and his mop of chestnut brown hair, which apparently was the last straw for him.

“Why are you so nervous?” Zach asked, pausing his game. “You’ve been on this show tons of times!”

“Yeah, but I was always talking about swimming. Not about a movie.” I got up from the couch and parked myself in front of the mirror once more.

Having been an elite swimmer for nearly 20 years, I could talk forever about my sport. I’ve done it a couple dozen times on this very stage of the Tonight Show. But put me in a skintight sheer dress and have me talk fifteen minutes about my role in the biggest blockbuster of the year, my hands were sweating and my stomach was doing flip flops. Even though Catching Fire wasn’t out until the end of November, the press rounds were starting early, kicking off with me on the Tonight Show at the end of October. No pressure or anything.

I continued to stare at my reflection, trying to build up some sort of confidence. How does Brit do this all the time?

Just as if he knew I needed some words of comfort, a quick rap sounded on the dressing room open door, followed by the voice of Jay Leno. Jay was a good family friend of my family. I was first on the show in 1996 when I was nine, after winning my first Olympic gold medal. Brittney, my sister, was first on the show when she was 14, talking about her first movie. Since then, she’s been on the show a record number of 47 times. And Zach, well, he’s never been on the show, but he’s a fan of backstage. 

“Just wanted to wish you luck, you up and coming movie star,” Jay said, holding his arms out to me.

“Uh yeah, like that’s going to happen.” I turned around and smiled, warmly taking his hug. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so nervous.”

“It’s no sweat,” he said. “You’re a natural, just like your sister. I can’t wait to see the movie.”

Jay chatted a few more minutes with us before leaving to say a quick hello to his other guest and taking the stage. Zach and I sat sat for a few more moments of silence before I decided to give myself a pep talk, much like what my coach does before I race.

“This is going to go great. The interview will be super easy and everyone will laugh at what I have to say. I’m funny. I can tell great stories.”

“That’s what people say, but I don’t see it,” Zach mumbled once again. 

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes as another knock sounded on the door. Ken, the producer of the show, walked in the room and smiled. “We’re all ready, Miss Miller.”

Zach stood up to walk with me out of the dressing room to the green room, where I was just one step away from the stage. “Any words of advice, bro?”

He squinted his eyes and cocked his head to the side, “has one of your eyebrows always been higher up than the other?”

I rolled my eyes again, resisting the voice in my head telling me to punch him. What is it with brothers?

As we came upon the green room, another producer walked out with another gentleman. He was tall, slender and had curly sandy blonde hair. I didn’t get the chance to see his face, but Zach did. And it made him really excited.

Once the door was shut, Zach grabbed my arm and began to talk really excited. His voice even went up an octave, which was weird. I thought that only happened to guys who were kicked in the family jewels. “Did you see him? That’s the guy from Thor! Loki! Tom, Tom, uh, Hiddleston! That’s my favorite movie!”

“Cool,” I took a seat on the green room’s couch. Zach and I love superhero movies, especially anything Marvel-related. The Avengers was probably our favorite superhero movie of all time. But right now, I don’t have time to worry about what Loki — er, Tom — is doing on stage. I need to finish my pep talk.

“Maybe I can get a picture with him later,” Zach said, checking to make sure his phone was in his pocket. His attention focused onto the live feed of the show, airing on the large flat screen television in the green room. I briefly decided to look up, taking in more of Tom Hiddleston. And boy, was I not disappointed. 

Tom was wearing a light grey suit that fit his body perfectly. He paired the suit with a red tie and what looked like gold cuff links. He smiled the whole time he talked to Jay, animatedly talking about his travels while on press junkets for his new movie. He seemed really genuine. Like a lot of fun. And I can’t stress it enough — he looked perfect. 

“I saw Thor: the Dark World with Brit, that was a good movie,” Zach said, listening to the interview. “The script was so much better than the last Thor.”

Zach continued listening to the interview as I stood up, looking in a smaller mirror, just once more. I felt her stomach churn as Jay and Tom continued to talk. I only hope I could be that easy going. I was prompted beforehand with the questions Jay would ask in order to allow me to give the most respectable answers. I knew exactly what clip from the film would be shown and what I would say to introduce it. Jay even loaded me with a few jokes to repeat. There was no need to be nervous. 

“Maybe I shouldn’t have worn this dress,” I mumbled, running my fingers over the sheer black panels of the dress. The dress hugged my body just right, giving the appearance I had curves instead of this crazy, she-man athletic build. The sheer panels throughout the dress showed enough skin to be sexy, but not slutty. I’m not a very flashy person, but this dress definitely had something to say. 

“I think it’s a little too late for that now,” Zach chuckled. “Looks like you’re up!”

I walked away from the mirror and over to Ken, who was opening the stage door for me. I gave a tiny wave to Zach and walked out. 

“Good luck!” he shouted. 

I took my place behind the curtain, waiting for an introduction. I tried to wipe any sweat from my hands onto my dress, knowing I would probably shake hands with Jay and Tom. Oh, god, my hands are so clammy. I don’t want Tom to even touch me.

“My next guest is no stranger to the show, but this time around she’s here for her splash onto the big screen instead of the pool,” Jay called in his normal, up beat tone. I took the opportunity to take in a deep breath, close my eyes and breath out, just as if I was about to begin a race. “Playing Johanna Mason in Catching Fire, please welcome Kate Miller!”

The curtain pulled back and I tried to give the best genuine smile I could as I took my first step out on the stage. There were a lot of people in the audience. As I took my second step, I felt the heat of all the stage lights hit me, only causing me to sweat more. I tried to force enough strength from my arm to wave to the crowd. I’m not even sure if I did it or not, it was all just one big blur. 

Jay walked over to me and grabbed my arm, leading me over to where I would be. Tom’s hand was outstretched, so I took it. Oh god, my hand! So clammy! While I thought it was just going to be a handshake, Tom pulled me closer to him and placed a light kiss on my left cheek. Oh, wow. That was nice. More of that please. 

I shook my head, trying to expel that thought from my brain and gave him a genuine smile. Obviously he can smell my fear. He’s like a dog in that way, clearly. 

I took my seat and smiled to the crowd, giving another short wave and waiting for the clapping to subside. 

Everything was going to be okay.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to wait a coupe days before posting my second chapter, but I was too excited! I guess positive reviews will do that to you! Thanks for reading!

“I never thought I would introduce you as an actress,” Jay said, trying to make me feel at ease. He nodded his head to me, letting me know it was all going to be okay. Suddenly, I believed him.

“Yeah, well, that makes two of us,” I smartly responded, getting a slight chuckle from the crowd. From my peripheral vision I could see Tom intently studying me — including the strategically placed slits in the dress. Is he…eye-fucking me? Should I return — no, sexy Kate, no! Get out of my head!

In the past when I was on the show, some of the other actors would try to engage me in the conversation, asking me about swimming or the Olympics. Or Michael Phelps and if he really eats 12,000 calories. Maybe she should do the same — apart from the Michael Phelps part? 

“I’m just glad there’s no dancing tonight,” I looked over at Tom and smiled. He knew he was caught. Sneaky fucker. “I think I’d lose to Tom.”

The audience laughed, being reminded of the clip Jay showed of Tom dancing while in Korea just a few minutes prior. I gave Tom the cheekiest smile I could muster. Tom softly voiced and adorable laugh, slightly sticking his tongue out of his mouth. Something about it drove me crazy; I don’t know what it was. I wanted to make him laugh again. 

“You’re too kind,” Tom replied before Jay took back the conversation.

“I’ve known you pretty much all of your life, right?” Jay asked as I nodded. “I never knew there was an actress inside you.”

“Well, not really,” I shook my head, still with a smile on my face. “I was more or less tricked into it by my sister.”

“Tricked?”

“Well yeah, I thought we were going to breakfast,” I explained, causing the audience, including Tom, to laugh.

I briefly told the story, of how much I loved the Hunger Games books. I read them while taking a class during my senior year of college — I had to take 25 credits in a semester to graduate before the Olympics. I needed all the easy classes I could get my hands on! When I heard the first movie was to be made, I asked — no, demanded — Brittney audition for Effie. And to my surprise, she was offered the role. Once the second movie was planned to be made, Britt met with Francis Lawrence, the newest director, to get a feel of how the movie would go. It was at that meeting she got me the audition for Johanna Mason.

“She happened to ask him what he envisioned for some of the characters, including Johanna, and Francis said someone sarcastic, not afraid to speak her mind, strong; pretty much a witch with a capitol ‘B,’” I said. “Then she tells Francis, ‘Oh, have you met my sister?’”

The crowd burst into laughter, including Tom. I couldn’t help but join in. 

“So Brit told me about auditioning for the part and I didn’t want to do anything like that. I was busy training for the Olympics and I’m just not an actress,” I rushed. “So a couple days later she told me we were going for breakfast, but instead we went to a studio where I auditioned for the role. I was one of about thirty other girls the casting directors saw.”

“So if you didn’t want to audition, why did you do it?” Jay asked. He nodded once again, signaling me to use the joke we thought of when he talked to me in the dressing room.

“Well, I just really wanted breakfast,” I laughed. My laughs were soon drowned out over the audiences’, which made me feel really good. “No, I loved the books so much and I could really identify with Johanna and her animosity toward the Capitol.”

“I talked with Francis and he said out of all the girls that auditioned, you came in angry, not just acting like you were angry,” Jay added.

“Again, I really wanted breakfast,” I repeated. “It’s the most important meal of the day!”

“So I’m curious,” Jay started. “You’re a five time Olympic athlete. How did you use that to your advantage?”

“Well, I thought it would be easy since I started filming a few weeks after the Olympics, but since Johanna uses an axe — and I have no experience whatsoever with an axe — I had a guy kind of show me how to use it,” I recalled. “I wasn’t sure at first since he had only seven fingers, but I got over that.”

The audience laughed again. “I’m sure that was easy compared to what you normally do. Swimmers use all of their body muscles, right?”

“You know, that’s what I thought, but turns out, there’s this muscle that runs down the middle of your back and when you chop a lot of wood in a day’s time, it’s on fire by the time you want to go to bed,” I laughed, pointing to my back. “Apparently I’ve never used that muscle a day in my life, because it was sore for days.”

Jay asked me more about my time on set, which was a blast since the only time I had ever been in Hawaii was for a training trip. And let me tell you, those are not fun. Jay asked what it was like working with Brittney on a movie, which was also fun. Since we had a non-traditional childhood, we never spent more than a few weeks together at a time. We had some tense moments, but our relationship grew. Plus, whenever she wore Effie’s butterfly costume, actual butterflies landed on her. It was hilarious. Jay also asked me about working with Jennifer Lawrence, who is so down-to-earth and hilarious. But also, totally crazy. In a good way.

Jay was even able to engage Tom in some of the conversation. He asked us who would win in a Hunger Games battle — Johanna or Loki.

“Johanna is pretty angry,” I said. “I don’t think she would go down without a major fight.”

“Oh, that’s tough,” Tom sat up straighter and ran a hand through his hair. His glorious, wonderful hair. “I feel like Loki would do a lot of tricks. Make copies of himself, disappear…turn another tribute into a rat and eat him.”

“Loki wins!” I shouted. “Please don’t turn me into a rat!”

Tom laughed really hard, patting his hand on my arm. “However, I think if it was Kate and I in the arena she would win hands down,” he said, keeping his hand on my arm. “I’m not that good of a swimmer.”

When it came time to introduce the clip, I gave the back-story of when I filmed it.

“This was the first scene I shot. Johanna introduces herself to Katniss and Peeta by stripping her clothes off in the elevator,” I smiled, glancing at Tom, who was also smiling. “She talks about how much she hates her costume designer, since he dressed her as a tree, which is most commonly found in her district.”

As Jay played the clip, I let out a breath, feeling relieved that I was almost done. I glanced over at Tom and caught his smile. “Maybe we could team up in the arena.”

I blushed. Could we do more than team up? Whoops…there goes sexy Kate again. “Sounds like an excellent pairing!”

Tom and I shared another laugh before Jay directed us back.

“I’m curious, was filming that scene uncomfortable to film?” he asked.

I nodded my head. Oh, Jay, you have no idea.

“It was really awkward since we shot in a legit hotel with a working elevator. I mean, guests were getting on and off the elevator while we filmed. And I had to do this seven-second strip tease,” I said. Did I just say strip tease in front of Tom? “After I delivered my first line, the doors open, there I am naked, and there’s a guy holding four coffee cups in a little to-go thing, trying to get in on the elevator. He was just starring at me in horror.” The audience roared. “I wasn’t fully nude, since the outfit was too complicated to get out of without help, but it was still the most awkward moment of my life. But now I just laugh at it.”

Jay ended the segment congratulating me on the “beginning of my movie career,” which I quickly brushed off, and for my success in the Olympics, almost were almost a year ago.

“I can’t believe I first met you when you looked like this,” Jay turned to the screen behind him, which flashed a photo of my nine-year-old self, holding a first gold medal in one hand and my stuffed monkey, Hubert, in the other. The entire audience “awed” while I cringed. Man, I was so awkward. “You are so grown up.”

I shook my head, but kept the smile on my face. “Thank you, for that…wonderful remembrance of my awkward years.” The audience laughed one more time as Jay took the show to a commercial break. He leaned over his desk and laughed at me, proud he was able to hide the photo. “I’m going to get you back, Leno!”

As the crew set up the cameras for the musical guest, assistants peppered more makeup on Jay. They brought Tom and I bottles of water in case we were thirsty. Tom cracked his open and took a long swig while I left my on the coffee table and watched people scurry around the set. 

“A gold medal when you were nine?” Tom’s velvet voice broke me from my staring. I looked at him and couldn’t help but stare into his soft, baby blue eyes. I’ve known him for less than twenty minutes and he was already making me turn into a pile of mush. “You must be a swimming god or something.”

“Oh, it was just a medal for being on the team relay,” I chuckled. “I didn’t even swim in the final.” Honestly I did nothing. Just a simple swim in the preliminary and semi-final races.

“That’s still pretty impressive,” he said. “How many medals do you have?”

I paused. Somewhere between the 2008 Games and last year’s London Olympics I always get confused. I tried to quickly recall the number as Tom broke out in a laugh.

“Okay, if you have to count, you obviously have too many,” he said.

“I just get confused,” I joined him in the laugh. “I have ten gold, five silver and two bronze.”

Tom whistled. “That’s a lot of hardware. Do you ever just want to wear them all at once?”

“Honestly, yes,” I laughed. “And usually when I’m cleaning my house!” 

I talked to Tom a little while longer, mainly to listen to his sexy British voice, telling him how much I enjoyed his performance in the Thor and Avenger films. 

“Thank you, darling. It’s the most fun I’ve ever had playing a character,” he said, gently re-placing his hand on my forearm I had resting on the arm of our joined chairs. “It’s almost not fair I get paid for it.”

I opened my mouth to ask him another question when the show’s director called for silence. Tom and I shifted back in our seats and watched as Jay welcomed the audience back, introducing Bastille as the musical guest. Normally, I would be ecstatic, as this was my favorite band of the moment. Instead, I kept going over the conversation Tom and I had, as well as the feel of his hand on my arm. Stop it, Kate. Never going to happen.

Before I knew it, the song was almost over and we were getting up from out seats to join the band on stage. I couldn’t help but marvel at how tall Tom was, which is hard to come by since I stand just an inch and a half shy of six foot. 

After the show, everyone went backstage to collect their belongings and do a quick post-show interview. As I collected my items, Tom was out in the hall, filming his clip. And just as the stalker he is, Zach couldn’t help but listen from inside the door, careful to not get in the shot.

“Hey!” he whispered. “I want a picture with him. I want to show No Shirt Bob I met a superhero.”

“First of all, he probably wants to leave,” I whispered back. “And second, it alarms me you are friends with a guy with the nickname of No Shirt Bob.”

Zach rolled his eyes and exited the room, just as Tom was finishing with the short interview. He looked over at me, urging my to say something to him.

“It was really nice to meet you, Tom,” I offered, hoping that would suffice for my brother’s urge. It didn’t.

“Yeah, same to you,” he replied, not sure if he should shake my hand, hug me or what. Instead, he took a step in and placed another airy kiss to my cheek. Hopefully that interaction wasn’t too awkward as it seemed. After the kiss, Tom noticed Zach standing directly beside me. He started sizing him up, kind of like how I imagine two gorillas would do before a showdown. “Oh, is this your boyfriend?”

“Oh, god no!” I spat out. Gross. “This is my brother, Zach.”

Tom’s whole demeanor seemed to soften, almost like he was relieved. He offered his hand to Zach, which he eagerly shook. The two talked a bit about Tom’s role as Loki, and even his involvement in Midnight in Paris and War Horse, which I didn’t even know my brother had seen. 

Somewhere in the middle of the conversation, Jay walked down the hall and encouraged everyone to get together for a photo for the show’s social media accounts. Jay stood between Tom and I for the first one, then had Zach, whom Jay just adored, stand in for the third. In order to better balance the photo, Tom switched sides with Jay, taking the end next to me. As he positioned himself for the photo, he gently placed his hand on my waist, his fingers ghosting over one of the cutouts. I can’t even being to describe the feeling I went through. My skin was suddenly on fire.

As we took a couple of photos — since multiple cameras and phones were handed to the guy taking the photo — I couldn’t help but enjoy the feel of Tom’s hand on my body, even if it was only my waist. I felt his fingers gently trace over the cutout, like he didn’t realize what he was doing. 

Once the photos were done, Tom’s hand slid from my waist and he said his good byes, walking out of the building.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the long wait. And sorry that Tom isn't present in this chapter.
> 
> Also, if you are interested in the clothing:  
> Brittney's cover outfit, inspired by Sandra Bullock's — http://www.eonline.com/news/484780/sandra-bullock-jennifer-lawrence-and-miley-cyrus-named-entertainment-weekly-s-entertainers-of-the-year  
> Kate's outfit — http://www.net-a-porter.com/product/174191
> 
> Enjoy!!

“This is going to be so much fun. A photo shoot with my favorite sister!” 

I smirked and changed my view from looking out the window to my sister. “I’m your only sister!”

If Brittney Miller had to be described in one word it would be flawless.

First of all, she was beautiful. She was tall and slender, blonde (just like me) and olive-skinned (thanks to the our Greek heritage) with an expressive face. I was lucky to have similar features to her, apart from the olive skin (thanks, Mom, for the Swiss-ness), but I never felt quite as beautiful as Brittney. My big sister just carries herself better.

Brittney was also talented. Very talented, to say the least. After a well to-do — but short lived — ballet career, Brittney made the jump to movies and television, with little help from our grandfather, a fellow actor. Her first movie, Jurassic Park, made millions and her three-year stint as a Power Ranger put her name out there. More box office hits solidified her as a household name. As of now, she had been nominated for eight Oscars, having just won one earlier in the year, as well as countless other awards.

But the other kicker was how humble and generous Brittney was. She donated to many charities — both with her time and money — and was a member or board person of many groups and organizations. “If you’re not helping someone, you’re not doing anything with your life,” Brittney often told us, especially once my time in the spotlight grew. 

It might be odd to have a celebrity for a sister — in fact, in no way is our family “normal” by any means — but it was just the life I was born into. And I wouldn’t have it any other way. 

We pulled into the back lot of where the photo shoot would be taking place, right in the heart of downtown LA. Britt slid the sunglasses that were shielding her eyes from the sun to the top of her head, reaching behind her seat to grab her purse. 

We walked arm in arm into the studio, where we were greeted by Van, the photographer of the shoot. 

“Ladies, so glad to see you,” he said, taking both of our hands and showing us to the racks of clothing. “Brittney, we have your clothes over here, and Kate, yours are over there.”

When I got the call about participating in a photo shoot for Entertainment Weekly, I couldn’t help but ask them why. I’m nothing important compared to Britt. My part in the movie wasn’t that great compared to Jen. Why would they want to feature me?

 _The Internet has been blazing with everything you have done,_ I recalled the conversation from the magazine’s editor. _The movie, the interviews and everything you’ve done online. You’re more popular than you think._

Of course, after some encouragement from Britt, I agreed to the photo shoot, which was celebrating the entertainers of the year. In true Miller fashion, Brittney was named “Entertainer of the Year” by the magazine, thanks to her lead roles in two blockbuster movies during the year, one of which she was sure to be nominated for. 

I slipped my first outfit on, a blue pencil skirt that ended just below my knees paired with a see through cream blouse and a red bustier top. Clearly they are playing up this whole “American sports hero” label. I shook my head and laughed, leaving my makeshift dressing room to rejoin my sister. Britt was already being photographed in a stunning white ball down, pulling old Hollywood glamour. 

“You look hot!” she screamed, waving her hand for me to come over. I just rolled my eyes and joined her on the chaise lounge, laughing when she pulled me down and kissed my cheek. “Take a picture of my gorgeous sister!”

Van took a few photos of us together and us separate. He had me change into a couple more outfits, but continued photographing Britt. After putting on my fourth outfit, I stood aside and watched my sister, marveling at how easy she made this. Van called a break in order to change his batteries, giving us the opportunity to hit up the food table.

I pulled a couple grapes off a plate and popped them in my mouth as Britt munched on a carrot stick. “I like this outfit a lot. You should consider wearing this on a date.” I looked down to my black leather pants and flow-ey button down white blouse. It was an ordinary outfit and the pants were much easier to get into than my racing suits, but a date?

“Who would I be joining on this date?” I asked her setting her up for a punch line, no less.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she gnawed on the end of the carrot, swaying her body. “Maybe Tom Hiddleston.”

I nearly choked on my grape. “Where did you learn that name?”

Brittney laughed her world-famous laugh. Even I couldn’t help but shake my head and smile. “I see everything. I saw how he looked at you on the Tonight Show. I saw how you acted around him. Besides, Zach told me everything.”

I rolled my eyes and picked up a piece of Colby-Swiss cheese. “You don’t know jack, Jack.”

Britt arched an eyebrow and shrugged. “If you want to pursue it, I know people. I can make it happen.”

I opened my mouth to blast her with a sarcastic retort, but instead, I was called over to a large, plush gray chair. Van was positioning it for me to sit on. Instead of responding to my sister, I shot a dirty, but playful, look at her before walking over to Van. He had me take a seat on the arm of the chair and kick my feet in the air. And let me tell you, that’s really hard to do in leather pants. 

Brittney came over and traded some funny stories, putting me at ease and helping me relax. After a few more frames, my part of the photoshoot was done. As Britt had the finishing touches of her hair done, I changed out of my outfit and back into the clothes I was originally wearing. I pulled my hair up into a messy ponytail and took a seat next to the changing rooms, waiting for my sister. 

About half an hour later she was done and changing out of her outfit. As she gathered her things, Van talked to her about the shoot. I walked over and joined in on the conversation.

In a couple of weeks the magazine will hold a celebration dinner in LA for all of those who were photographed. Normally I’m not a big fan of making small talk with people I have no shared interests in, but I was looking forward to the dinner. I knew Jen was also being photographed, so I would already know someone there besides Britt. That already made me feel better.

“So, can you tell me who else will be in the feature?” Britt asked. 

He folded his arms to his chest and sighed, no doubt trying to remember all of the photographs he took. “Let’s see…Jennifer Lawrence, of course. Pharrell, the cast of Breaking Bad, Tom Hanks, Leonardo DiCaprio, Steve McQueen…there’s one more I’m thinking of,” Van tapped his chin, really struggling to place the name. I picked up my sister’s bag to carry it out when Van said the other name. “Oh! Tom Hiddleston!”

Britt started to laugh really hard. She nudged my shoulder, trying to get a reaction out of me, but I just shrugged my shoulders and carried her bag out to the car.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the kind words! I've been so giddy! I just love reading them. 
> 
> This chapter is filler, but fun — filled with fashion! Tom will make an appearance in the next chapter, I promise!
> 
> Here's the outfits, if you're interested:  
> Kate: http://www.pinterest.com/pin/121386152430249632/  
> Kate's hair (I wear it this way all the time! It really works!): http://www.pinterest.com/pin/251286854182586844/  
> Britt: http://www.pinterest.com/pin/327848047844314867/  
> Jen: http://www.pinterest.com/pin/364017582351728978/

Two weeks flew by in a flash. Since the photoshoot for Entertainment Weekly, I had packed my bags for Atlanta, where I would begin filming for the next movies in the Hunger Games series, Mockingjay parts one and two. The rest of the cast had begun filming almost a month earlier, but my scenes in the first part of the last book come much later in the first movie. Once the award season would swing into full gear, filming would take a break since many of us would be attending the ceremonies. Jen flew back this weekend for the event, but I think it was to take a break. Her filming schedule was pretty rigorous. 

But today, Britt, Jen and I were getting ready for the Entertainment Weekly dinner. Brittney was wearing a gorgeous white gown, similar to the one she wore that will appear on the cover of the magazine, but not as glamorous. Since I was lazy and didn’t want to shave my legs, I rummaged through my — and Britt’s — closets, trying to pull an outfit together. I like to think I have some sort of fashion sense, but it’s nowhere as good as my sister’s. Which was why I was out in the living room with an arm full of clothes, showing Britt and Jen what I pulled together.

“How about these white pants with this black crop top?” I held the two outfits together, waiting for their approval. Britt shook her head while Jen made a face.

“That’s going to hit you weird,” Jen offered, holding her lips to her wine glass. “You’re so tall.”

“We’re about the same height,” I retorted.

“Yeah, that’d look weird on me, too.”

I laughed and put the outfit down and picked up a black sleeveless jumpsuit that had a bedazzled collar. I grimaced at this choice. “I don’t really look good in stuff like this.”

“No! This will be perfect,” Britt jumped up and touched the material in her fingers. “In fact...” she left the living room and hurried down the hall to her bedroom. 

I looked at Jen. “Was that conversation over?”

We followed Britt to her room and found her digging around in a drawer, pulling out a white bedazzled belt. The belt paired perfect with the jewel-encrusted neckline of the jumper. She tossed it at me before going into her closet and pulling out a pair of black heels. We were very lucky to wear the same size clothing and shoes — our wardrobes practically doubled whenever I visited. 

“Try it on!” 

I changed out of my yoga pants and tank top and into the jumpsuit. I hooked the belt around my waist and adjusted it before turning to the girls. 

“It’s perfect!” Britt exclaimed, slightly jumping up and down.

“I love it,” Jen added. “Damn it. I wish I saw that first!”

As I looked at myself in the mirror, I couldn’t help but notice how well my shoulders stood out. As a swimmer, I had to be cautious as to what tops I wore. Many made me look like a man trying to fit in women’s clothing, but this jumper was very flattering. For a minute, I thought I might catch a few eyes in the outfit, but then I remembered what Britt would be wearing; and no doubt Jen would have a stellar outfit.

I turned around to voice my opinion, only to end up watching Jen go through Britt’s closet. She found a mid-thigh blue and cream pattern dress to wear, much to the approval of my sister. I couldn’t help but shake my head at the hilarious conversation the two were having while trying to pick out shoes.

“This is much easier than shopping,” Jen said. “Can you just pick everything out for me from now on?”

In a year’s time, Jennifer Lawrence had become really close to our family. Whenever I was in town, she would come to the house and end up staying a few days at a time. Sometimes I would spend a few days at her house, where we would act like teenagers at a sleepover — talking about boys, odd body functions and food. Suddenly, we gained another sister, but we were okay with that (plus she’s totally crazy, so she already fits in!).

Over the next couple hours we got ready for the event. Jen — who had recently cut her hair in a cute pixie cut — ran some texturing cream through her mane, calling it good. Being gifted with hairstyling — thanks to countless hours spent on the pool deck trading types with other swimmers — I put Britt’s hair in a simple, but elegant up-do as she finished her make-up. I ran some of Jen’s texture cream through my wavy hair and pulled it up in a messy double ponytail, making it look longer than it actually is. Britt quickly did my make-up, since I had zero talent in that department. She was just finishing up with Jen’s when our car arrived to take us downtown LA. We grabbed our clutches and were on our way.

“I hope this will be a lot of fun,” Jen said as she slid the seat belt across her lap. “Last year’s wasn’t so much fun.”

Britt agreed. “Yeah, whoever was the host was not funny.”

There was a break in the conversation until Jen spoke up once more. “So Kate, why the twelve outfit change?”

Before I could even respond, Britt butted in. “Oh, she has her eye on a man.”

“Really?” Jen snapped her head over to me.

“No! No!”

“Oh yes!” Britt clapped her hands. “They’ve already made the connection.”

“Oh really?” Jen asked again.

“No! There was no connection. I don’t have my eye on anyone!” I shot back. “We spent an hour together on a talk show. It was work.”

“There seemed to me to be some chemistry there,” Britt said. “I’m not telling you to go after it, but at least consider it. He’s a tall drink of water.”

“Thank you, but I’m not really thirsty,” I shot back, saying what came in my head before I had time to think it through. 

Jen and Britt exchanged a look before looking back at me and laughing. They continued laughing for a couple miles down the road and I couldn’t help but join in. We laughed for a few more minutes before the giggles subsided. 

Neither one said anything else, but I knew this conversation was far from over.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it! The chapter I promised you all, complete with Hiddleston goodness.
> 
> Remember when I told you in the beginning of the story some things are different to fit with my story? Well, here's one — Britt co-starred in Titanic with Leonardo instead of Kate Winslet. Don't get me wrong, I love me some Kate, but this works for my story since I want to use Leo as a supporting character.
> 
> Anyways, back to Tom! Thanks for reading!
> 
> [P.S. This is what I envisioned him wearing, sans tie: http://hiddlememes.tumblr.com/post/43802677337/i-always-thought-rome-tom-was-the-greatest-especially The best outfit ever!!]

The Entertainment Weekly recognition dinner was held in the Hollywood Hills at Yamashiro Restaurant. The restaurant was styled in traditional Japanese architecture and had beautiful views of the Los Angeles Basin. It was the perfect spot to host the dinner. The entire restaurant was rented out and filled with people — those who were honored in the magazine, ET Weekly staff and other big wigs in the entertainment business, as well as media that lined the red carpet. 

After walking the red carpet and answering a few questions, I made my way into the restaurant and was, oddly, met by myself. The ten portraits that were taken of the honorees were hanging from the ceiling in a large frame, probably a good story or two tall. It was weird, awesome and embarrassing — all at the same time — to see myself like that. It was so surreal. 

I quickly studied my photo, not wanting to make myself seem vain, and left the area. The magazine ended up using the photo of me clad in the leather pants and white blouse on the arm of the chair. I went on to view the other portraits hanging from the ceilings, trying not to bump into anybody in the process. Britt’s was glamorous as per usual and it was displayed towards the front by the podium. Jen’s was an image from a previous photoshoot during the year, obviously noted since her hair was much longer in the photo. 

Regretfully, I was looking at Tom’s when Britt came by. She had a knowing look on her face. I just wanted to smack it off.

“Here, I got this for you,” she handed me a glass of white wine, in place of any snide remark about Tom. “I found our table. We’re by the podium.”

I took a sip of my wine and continued to glance at the other portraits. As we made our way over to the table, we ran into Tom Hanks, who said he was at the table next to us. One of Britt’s best friends in Hollywood was Colin, Tom’s son. Since they practically grew up together, Britt was close with Tom and his wife.

“I think there may be a future career here for you in Hollywood,” Tom said to me. “You may as well go into the family business once you’re done with swimming.”

I thanked him and quickly changed the subject, raving about Captain Phillips. We talked a few more minutes before getting to our table, where Jen was already seated, checking her phone. As we sat down, I couldn’t help but think about what Tom said. I’ve always known the day when I stopped swimming would come, but I never really given it a hard thought about what I would do afterwards. I had some ideas, of course, but haven’t been able to fully pursue them. 

I shook my head of the thoughts, encouraging myself to have fun tonight. I took a seat to the left of Jen as Britt sat to her right. I smiled as Leonardo DiCaprio came over, greeting my sister with a kiss on the cheek, and me with squeeze on my shoulder. 

Leo was hands down my sister’s best friend. They starred in Titanic together, which catapulted them both to fame. Through the fame, money and recognition, the two were able to remain friends and have grown even closer. Really, they’re more like siblings than friends. And in some weird way, he became a sibling to Zach and I, always sending us gifts on our birthdays, making a point to visit us if we were in the same town, etc. Personally, I think it’s because he’s an only child. You want siblings? Well, buddy, you got three crazy ones. 

Matt, the editor of Entertainment Weekly, and his wife joined our table, making us a happy bunch of six, with two more spots available at our table. Guests were still arriving, but the start of the event was drawing near. I took a couple more sips of my wine and looked around the room, wondering who else would join our table. I saw Tom and Steve McQueen at the table next to us, as well Pharrell and a few other celebrities at the next two tables. It seemed just about everyone was here. Because my incessant need to know everything, I casually glanced over at the place cards next to me. Once I saw the name “Tom Hiddleston” in raised gold ink on the place card, I instantly wished I minded my own business. 

I glanced over at Britt, who had a huge smile across her face. I looked over at Jen, who also shared a similar look. Leo looked at the three of us, undoubtedly confused. And just as luck would have it, Tom and another gentleman walked into the restaurant and began looking for their places. I didn’t want it to look like I was staring, so I struck up a conversation with Jen, asking her what she was looking forward to about the meal we would be eating (she was always good to talk about food). I glanced up once more, seeing that Tom and the other man were speaking to the editor of the magazine, who was pointing them over to our table. 

Tom looked over to our table and locked eyes with me, a smile instantly gracing his face. His eyes lit up as he shifted his body, heading over to us. God, he looked amazing. He wore black dress slacks that perfectly fit the bottom half of his body and a black tailored vest over a simple white dress shirt. Simply put, he was sex on fire. Panicked and not being able to form any sort of words, I smiled back. 

“I should have known fate would have us sitting next to each other once again,” Tom said in place of a hello. All I could do was chuckle and accepted the light kiss on my cheek. I glanced over to Jen and my sister, only to see their eyes trained on me. Hell, even Leo was now in on it, his eyes also set on us. Just for that, I wasn’t introducing them to Tom. “I’ll have you know, I saw Catching Fire and was blown away. You perfectly captured Johanna.”

“You’re familiar with her character?” I teasingly asked.

Tom shrugged. “Well, I may have read the books once or twice. Purely to be in the know with what my cousins were reading.”

I laughed, understanding what he meant. We talked a little bit more to ourselves before he introduced me to Luke, his publicist. We exchanged pleasantries before I introduced both of them to Jen, whom Tom had already met at Comic Con, Leo and Britt. Tom and Leo held each other in discussion long enough for me to catch my breath and try to think of other topics to speak about. I don’t know what it was, but I couldn’t think clearly around Tom. It’s as if my brain was running at a thousand miles per hour, with none of the thoughts becoming clear. 

Before I could come up with a topic to talk about, Matt was welcoming everyone to the dinner. He quickly reviewed the year in film, television, music and literature before quickly going over the honorees. When it came to Britt, she joined him on stage and received a crystal award, recognizing her as the Entertainer of the Year. After a short speech, the first course of dinner was served.

Waiters brought out a three items for our first course: a spicy hot seafood hot pot, hamachi and miso soup and a small salad. Not knowing exactly where to begin first, I started with my salad.

“You’re going for the salad first?” Britt joked. “Don’t waste your stomach space on that!”

“Hey, you just mind your own business,” I retorted. I looked over at Tom, who still had a smile on his face, and shrugged. “Sisters, huh?”

He nodded, completely agreeing with me. “I understand completely. I have two of them.”

I looked at him in disgust. “Two? I have problems with just one!’

“Hey!” The entire table broke out in laughter over Britt’s outburst. 

Once the first course was finished, about thirty minutes after it first arrived, the second course was served. A small filet mignon and sushi were on the plate, making my mouth instantly water. The rest of the table broke out in conversation, including Luke, leaving Tom and I to talk. 

“So, when you’re not helping to start an uprising against the Capitol, where are you most likely to be found?” Tom jokingly asked. 

I quickly swallowed the piece of sushi, kind of scratching my throat in the process, and responded. “More than likely at the pool. That’s kind of all I do.”

“So you train every single day? For the Olympics?”

I nodded my head. “Pretty much. Right now, everything’s out of sync since I’ve been filming, but normally, I swim five or six days a week. Once I’m a year out from the Games, it will get more serious, and when I’m 100 days out, it will get really intense.”

Tom asked more about my swimming career — why I wanted to be a swimmer, how I got started, what it felt like to win a gold medal — the typical questions I always get asked. But then Tom asked something so few people actually cared about. Once you’re done brining gold medals home, you fade out of the spotlight. I’ve seen it happen enough times to be true.

“What do you want to do after swimming,” he questioned, elegantly popping a piece of sushi in his mouth with a pair of chopsticks. I was so jealous. “I mean, there is going to be an end, right?”

“Oh yeah, definitely.” I looked at my wine glass, trying not to let me emotions get to me. I still wasn’t sure what I wanted to do after the 2016 Olympics. I’ve always tried to live in the now, but with more and more people asking me “what’s next?” For the first time, I’ve started worrying about my future. “I majored in linguistics at the University of Michigan. I’m working on my master’s now. I probably won’t be able to fully finish that until next year.”

Tom’s eyes widened. Yeah, I had that affect on people. “Wow, I must admit I was not expecting that. What would you like to do with your degree?”

“I’m not really sure. There’s so much you can do in that field,” I turned my body more towards him so we could talk more directly. Tom did the same, resting his arm on the back of my chair. I felt like I was in a cocoon. “I thought I wanted to do something with archeology, but I decided that wasn’t for me. This week, I am between researching and preserving ancient or dying languages or becoming a translator for the UN or some governmental agency.”

“Beautiful and brainy,” Tom just shook his head, trying to come out of his shock. “And I simply tell people I’m an actor.”

I smiled and placed my hand on his arm. “You’re career is just as important. You tell a story. You give people a break from the real world, if even for a couple hours. It’s very important, especially in a time like now.”

Tom flashed me a small smile before glancing down. I turned the conversation on him, finding out more about his career, family and passions. As he spoke why he wanted to get into acting, I stared at his face. While his eyes were blue when I first met him, they were now a light green color. His hair was more reddish than it first appeared, as well. I couldn’t help but involuntarily smile when he laughed, his laugh lines evident with every smile.

While we were eating dessert — a chocolate soufflé cake to die for! — he told me about his family, including his parents’ divorce, his sisters, Emma, who is also an actor, and Sarah, who lives in India, and his large extended family. We both shared a lot of similarities: a large extended family, fathers who had similar career and, probably the most important thing, we were both middle children.

“I wasn’t a big mischief maker, but I definitely got a way with a lot of stuff,” Tom laughed. 

“I wish I was that lucky. I was always getting into trouble.”

“I can hardly believe that.”

“Believe it,” Britt added as she walked behind our chairs. I shot her a playful glare as she smirked, walking to another table. Since dessert was over, many people were up and moving around the room. Britt walked over to the other side of the room, where I watched Brad Pitt greet her with a hug. Another good friend.

“So what are you doing next?” I asked Tom, finishing my second glass of wine. I also noticed Tom and I were the only ones at our table. 

“I’m going to be in the Donmar’s production of Coriolanus. It starts in a couple of weeks, so I’ve been heavily training and rehearsing.” Tom’s eyes lit up as he spoke about his role of Coriolanus. I asked him about other theatrical work and I thought he was going to explode. “Don’t get me wrong, I love any form of acting, but there’s something magical about being on a stage in front of people.”

All I could do was smile. He was so passionate. It was adorable.

“I’m sorry, I’m carrying on like a child,” Tom apologized.

“No, no, no!” I cut him off. “You’re very passionate. Don’t ever be sorry for what you enjoy.”

Tom stared at me for a few seconds before opening his mouth to say something. What he was going to say I’ll never know, since Luke chose that very moment to interrupt us. 

“You need to do a couple of quick interviews before we leave,” he quietly spoke. He and Tom spoke in hushed tones for a few more seconds while I sat there like an awkward idiot. 

Luke walked away and Tom turned back to me with a forced smile. “It appears I have to go.” Tom took my hand in both of his large, warm hands. “This evening has been so wonderful. I’ve enjoyed talking with you.”

“You, too, Tom,” I stood with him, probably needing to find my sister — who was no longer in eyesight — anyways. “Good luck with Coriolanus.”

“Thank you, darling,” he pressed a kiss to my cheek before walking over to Luke, leaving me like a pile of mush. I watched him walk over to his friend and speak with an Entertainment Weekly reporter, his hands remaining in his pockets. 

I grabbed my clutch off the table and found Jen, who was standing with Britt by the door. They both had similar shit-eating grins on their faces, causing me to chuckle. Britt threaded her arm through mine as we three walked out of the restaurant and to our car. 

“What a revelation,” she whispered to no one in particular. I knew it was meant for me.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't resist throwing more fashion into my story!!! Even though I wanted to do an Oscar chapter, I'm not sure it will fit in with the story, but I just HAD to show you all what I picked!
> 
> Here's Britt's Oscar dress (HAD to steal from my girl, Sandy): http://www.pinterest.com/pin/121386152431187758/  
> Kate's Oscar dress: http://www.pinterest.com/pin/121386152431187764/  
> Kate BAFTA dress: http://www.pinterest.com/pin/121386152431187769/
> 
> Hope you all enjoy!! 
> 
> [ Also, I'm wanting some feedback of what YOU would like to read in this story. Let me know in the comments! :) Thanks! ]

I’m tired. No, not just tired, exhausted.

I’ve been on a plane every couple of days, so I have no idea what day it is, let alone where I am. And I still have another full night ahead of me.

I had started filming my part for Mockingjay a few weeks ago. We just finished a big physical scene last week before I took off to Sochi, Russia, for the winter Olympics. My sponsors flew me out there to attend some events, cheer for fellow sponsored athletes and do some interviews. It was a lot of fun and I even got to help open the Opening Ceremonies with the crew at NBC and attend a lot of the events.

After a week in Russia — which, by the way, smelled a little bit like vodka — I flew to London for the BAFTA Awards. Then in a month or so, all of us would go to France and Germany, where we will finish filming for Mockingjay.

Britt was supposed to join me at the BAFTAs, since she was nominated for Best Actress, but due to a winter storm hitting the Eastern half of the United States, she was stuck there. I would be attending solo and I was nervous.

“It’s going to be fine,” she told me over the phone that morning. “You don’t have to walk the carpet if you don’t want to. And I made sure Leo is sitting next to you and at the same table as you at the after party.”

Alexander McQueen was designing my dress for the BAFTAs, as well as the Oscars, where I would be Britt’s date. As I was waiting for my dress to be brought out, Sarah, director of the McQueen line, showed me my sister’s dress she would be wearing at the Oscars. It was midnight blue with elegant detail in the front, joining together at the side. She would no doubt be the best dressed there.

One of Sarah’s helpers brought out my dress for tonight. She took it from him and held it up to my body. It was coral — a color that looked amazing against my hair and skin color — with a simple bottom and beaded bodice, all pulled together with a thin gold belt. It was gorgeous and showed off my collarbone, which was apparently my best feature.

Sarah and two others helped me into the dress, which was a very interesting experience in personal space, and walked me over to the full-length mirror. While I looked tired, I looked really good. And when my hair and make up people got to my hotel tonight, I would look even better.

“Do you want to try on your dress for the Oscars?” Sarah asked. I eagerly nodded my head.

The other two helpers got me out of my BAFTA dress before Sarah came back to show me the Oscar dress. It was a cream taffeta-like dress with ruffles up the sides. The front of the dress stopped mid-thigh while the back and sides of it continued to the ground. It reminded me of a wedding dress. It’s not something I would have picked out, but what do you say to a custom-designed gown? No thanks?

Four people, including Sarah, had to help me into it. There was some heavy breathing and a lot of praying going on, but I got into it. Once I got over to the mirror, I looked up and stared at my reflection.

It transformed me. The dress made me not only look beautiful, but feel beautiful. Suddenly, I didn’t mind that I somewhat resembled a cake topper. Sarah gave me a few more minutes to look before she took notes of some alterations.

The group helped me get out of the dress and I quickly changed back into my street clothes — blue jeans and a button down plaid shirt. From here I would be going to my hotel where hair and make up people would make me presentable. Then Sarah's crew would be arriving in two hours to dress me. Get ready for more praying.

I thanked Sarah and everyone for their help and grabbed my purse to leave. As I left the store, I heard a familiar voice call after me. I don’t know too many people in London, so it could only be a handful of people. I stopped walking and turned around, a smile spreading across my face when I saw a familiar head of blonde curls.

“Kate!” My cousin, Jake, yelled. He picked up his pace a little bit and caught up to me. “Britt told me you were here. Thought I would walk you to your hotel.”

I gave him a big hug, thankful that he took time out of his schedule to make sure I got around London okay. I’ve been to the city multiple times, but am still not too familiar with the bustling city.

My hotel was a few blocks up the street, giving us the time to talk. Jake, who was born and raised in London, was always one of my favorite cousins. His dad is my mom’s younger brother, who was stationed there while in the Navy. After meeting my aunt on a trip to Ireland, he fell in love and never left.

“So, Brittney told me about you meeting some guy? From here?”

I gritted my teeth. “Who all is she telling? Wouldn’t it be cheaper to produce a commercial and air it during prime time?”

Jake laughed. “I believe I read it in the family newsletter.”

I rolled my eyes before filling Jake in on Tom. Well, not the full story.

“I know him, actually. Well, not personally. I’ve been at the same pub while he was there. And I just took a girl to Coriolanus. He was pretty good.”

“Oh, a girl?” I tried to divert the conversation, but it didn’t work. Jake acted as if he didn’t even hear me.

“So, are you looking into that situation?”

I shrugged. “It’s not going to work out. I mean, he’s got his career and I have mine.” This was ridiculous. Having to explain a relationship that doesn’t even exist. “I don’t do long distance, either. People tend to stray.”

“That’s just the guys you’ve dated. They’re just assholes and cheaters,” he said. “I think Tom would be different. I would hope he would be different.”

I changed the topic, not wanting to get into my complicated dating background. Besides, we were standing out front of my hotel and I had people coming over in half an hour.

“Want to come up? Hang out before I have to get ready?”

“Can I have something out of the mini bar?”

I laughed and nodded my head, wishing my favorite cousin and I lived closer.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! This time, with TOM! Enjoy!

I wish I had another ticket to give to Jake. If he had been here with me, I no doubt would have been put at ease. Instead, I had to go solo. 

After an attendant helped me out of the car, I walked behind the red carpet, making my way into the building. My sister said I didn’t have to do the red carpet, so I’m not. I always felt weird about standing in one place for minutes on end with a bunch of flashes going off in my face. Granted, that happens after I win an Olympic medal, but that’s different. I earned that medal and praise. Not this. I didn’t earn this attention. 

I had just given my ticket to a man at the entrance when a hand grabbed my shoulder. Being so on edge, I flipped around really quick, startling the person.

“Easy there, killer,” Leonardo laughed. “Did you already do the carpet?”

“No, no, no. I am not doing that.”

“Why not?” His arm wrapped around my wrist and pulled me to the bright strip of carpet. “You have to show off the dress. C’mon! You’re the best dressed here.”

I rolled my eyes. “Please. I already saw Lupita.” 

“Lupita ain’t got nothing on you!”

“That’s horrible English!” I called after Leo, giving in to his pull. 

Leo dragged me over to the middle of the carpet, posing with me for a few shots. I had to wonder if the tabloids would concoct some absurd story about how we’re dating. I looked over at Leo and shook my head. It was really scary at how similar he and Britt were. 

As we left the red carpet I nervously ran my hand over my side, smoothing a wrinkle that was not there. I caught my reflection in a small mirror as I passed, happy with my appearance. 

The beauty team worked wonders. They made me look lively, bright and beautiful with light eye and face makeup and a subtle pink lip. My hair was also done in a simple up-do, showing off a simple, modest pair of diamond earrings. Since my dress already had a lot going on, I didn’t need a lot of jewelry. The earrings were actually Britt’s, so it felt like she was with me. 

Leo pointed me to our row of seats in front of the stage before leaving to go talk with some friends. As I made my way over, I noticed Sam Claflin and his wife, Laura. Since Sam and I are the same age, we had become great friends while filming. And Laura has become an even better friend, thanks to our similar sense of humor. We talked a little bit longer before parting ways, promising to meet up later.

Leo was already in our row and was busy talking with Martin Scorsese. Yeah, no big deal, just Scorsese. I’ve only met him a couple times before and he told me to call him Martin, even though I refused and continued to call him Mr. Scorsese. He had been dead set on making a movie with my sister, but she either had to turn him down or it never quite worked out. I think he thought that if he was overly nice to me, I would somehow convince her to agree to a film of his. Sorry, buddy, hate to burst your bubble, but I have just as much pull over my sister as you do. 

As the two talked, more people filed in the building, taking places as the show was about to begin. I scanned the crowd looking for anyone else I knew — doubtful — but stopped when I found a familiar face. 

Tom. 

I glanced to Leo, not wanting him to know I spotted Tom, and found him still in heavy conversation with Mr. Scorsese. There was still a few minutes until the show began, giving me some time to walk over there and briefly talk with Tom. 

_Why would you do that? I thought you weren’t interested in Tom?_ A voice in my head asked. _Just because I don’t want to date him doesn’t mean we can’t be friends,_ I shot back.

Before I could even think about what I was doing, I got up from my seat and walked over. I shot a glance over to Leo, who was still talking, before going over to the next aisle, up a couple of rows. Tom was talking to another gentleman in the row below him, his eyes smiling as he laughed along to whatever hilarious thing the guy was saying. 

With each step I took my heart thudded faster and louder. It felt like it was going to beat out of my chest. Ice water ran through my veins, despite a thin layer of sweat forming on my neck. Why was he making me feel this way?

Suddenly, I lost my nerve and was about to turn around and walk back to my seat, except I was spotted. Tom must have finished his conversation during my inner battle and noticed me. Obviously, since he was waving and calling my name. 

I quickly put a smile on my face and walked over to him. “Tom! How are you?”

He answered by placing a kiss to my left cheek. I marveled at how his face lit up and the smile traveled to his eyes. Was he always this happy? “I’m wonderful now. I didn’t realize you would be attending tonight. Especially due to that storm in the States.”

God, that rich English accent was to die for. I could have melted right there. 

“I was actually in Russia, so I wasn’t affected,” I tried to say in an even-toned manner. “Besides, there’s no point in arguing when you’re going up against an older sister.”

Tom genuinely laughed. “Point well taken.”

We talked for a few more brief minutes, mainly about the films nominated tonight, before a soft beeping filled the theatre, altering people to take their seats as the show was about to begin. 

“Are you attending the after party, Kate?” Tom asked me. 

The beeping got a little bit louder, warning people to quiet down. 

“I am, actually,” I said a little bit louder, over the beeping. I was even so bold as to ask, “Will you be there?”

“I will,” Tom smiled again, but it was different than before. A little more relieved or even surprised, perhaps. “I look forward to seeing you later.”

I made my way back to my seat, unsure if I felt Tom’s eyes on me or if that was purely my imagination. I sat back down in my seat and smoothed out my dress once more. The intro music started up, bringing the show to an open, when I felt Leo lean in. 

“I saw that,” he whispered. 

Yep. Just like Britt.


	8. Chapter 8

The award show was about three hours long, but it was so much fun it hardly even felt like that. Britt won her Best Actress award, which was no surprise. But the real surprise was when I was called on to the stage to accept it on her behalf. I felt the color drain out of my face as my hand gripped onto Leo’s forearm. 

“It will be fine,” he encouraged me. 

It was an out-of-body experience. I saw myself get up from my seat and walk the short distance to the stage, taking the steps in stride. Tom Hardy was on the stage holding the award, giving me a big smile and a hug. I waited for the applause to die down before I said anything.

“This is probably the only time I will ever accept an award for acting, so I better make this good,” I said, smirking when the crowd erupted in polite laughter. “My sister has worked so hard on this film and I’m really happy to see her work recognized by the British Film Academy. She couldn’t have done this without the support from the director and all those around her.”

I took a pause from my speech and looked around the room, suddenly getting nervous about all the eyes set on me. Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie were off to my right, giving me an encouraging smile. Tom Hanks was just a few seats down, taking a picture or video of me on his cell phone while Sam gave me a thumbs-up as my eyes scanned to him.

And then there was Tom. His eyes were soft and focused, set on me. I suddenly felt the encouragement I needed to finish my thoughts. 

“I’m sure Brittney is watching as I say this and I just want her to know how proud I am of her,” I finished. “Thank you.” 

Tom Hardy lightly placed his hand on my back and walked me off the stage. I took a few deep breaths as I walked off, unable to believe I just accepted a major award in front of a star-studded crowd. And millions of television viewers.

After a few photographs backstage, I was able to return to my seat and rejoin Leo until the show ended. The after party — which included food — was attached to the theatre, but through a couple of hallways and sets of doors. There weren’t any assigned seating at the tables, but as per my sister, I would be sitting with Leo. We walked over together, laughing about some of the jokes we heard earlier in the night. It was sad that he didn’t win the Best Actor award, but he was taking it all in stride. 

In the post-party restaurant, many people came up to Leo and congratulated him for his nomination for the Wolf of Wall Street, as well as my acceptance speech. I gave a polite smile and ushered the conversation back to Leo. 

“You know, I think you would have a pretty successful career in Hollywood,” Leo said to me. “Tons of people adore you.”

I shook my head. “They adore my sister. And I just happen to look like her.”

Leo just smirked. He got up to go talk with a few more people at a nearby table as I remained seating. I looked around the room at the multitude of famous people rubbing shoulders. Tom Hanks and his wife, Rita, talking with Emma Thompson. Angelina Jolie and Lupita Nyong'o laughing with Steve McQueen. Sam, Tom Hardy and Eddie Redmayne deep in discussion. I’m sure to the average person sitting in my seat would be flabbergasted, but since I was familiar in this environment, it didn’t really faze me. Plus it helps that I am dead tired from all my traveling. 

“Is this seat taken?” I heard a familiar British voice ask. I didn’t even need to turn around to know it was Tom. 

I patted the seat next to me. “It’s all yours!”

“You’ll have to forgive me,” Tom started, placing his hand over my left one that rested on the table. Wow, we’re already starting with the apologies. “I neglected to compliment you earlier on how beautiful you look tonight.” 

“Well, thank you,” I was taken back. Yes, he really was as proper as he was said to be. “That’s sweet of you.”

I appreciated how Tom filled out his tux. It was perfectly fit and hugged just the right body parts. I shook my head, trying to rid myself from some of the thoughts that entered my mind. 

“Are you still working on Coriolanus?” I decided to change the conversation, remembering that he was working on stage. 

“I just did my last show yesterday, as a matter of fact,” he pulled his chair closer to me as a group of people stood behind us to chat. “I fly out to Toronto tomorrow morning to begin filming for three months. Then back to London for another film.”

“You are hot in demand.”

Tom gave a polite smile and rubbed the back of his neck. And dare I say, he may have even blushed. 

Waiters were going around taking drink orders. When we were asked, Tom ordered a whiskey on ice while I did a simple watermelon vodka with sprite. 

“When you said you were in Russia, I assume for the Olympics?” Tom asked.

“Yeah, one of my sponsors had other athletes at the Games,” I spoke. I did love talking about this part of my job. “So I had to work a little bit, but I was able to attend some events. I pretty much spent all of my free time at the ice arena watching figure skating.”

Leo had walked back to the table just as dinner was being served. He took out his phone and began typing on the keypad. Fifty bucks said that text was going to my sister. 

“Who are you sponsored with?”

“Gatorade, Visa, Covergirl, Mutual of Omaha and Kellogg’s. Adidas is my main sponsor.”

Tom’s eyes widened. “Wow. Who knew swimming was so lucrative.”

“The times are a changing.” Even in the past five years, swimming had taken a more mainstream direction in the sports world. It’s been nice to my sport recognized more than once every four years.

Shortly after our conversation switched to tonight’s winners, Sam and Laura joined us at our table, as well as Mr. Scorsese, which Tom enjoyed as he took the opportunity to ask every question he could possibly think of. I smiled as the two spoke. It was adorable to see Tom like this. 

Once the meal arrived, our chattering dwindled, mainly because we were all starving. On the menu tonight was a variety of seafood — grilled salmon, lobster, oysters and tuna tartare. Not being as adventuress as some, I decided to stick with the salmon, which is what Tom and Sam did as well. Leo ordered the lobster and let me tell you, it was tons of fun watching him crack into it.

“You look like you’re having a lot of fun,” I offered with a smirk. Leo just rolled his eyes and kept working on the tail.

After a while, the table conversation resurged, giving me the chance to find out more about Tom while everybody else was distracted.

“So, when you’re not in front of the camera, what are you doing?”

Just as it had earlier before, Tom’s face lit up. He talked about his hobbies — working with UNICEF and other charities — and his passions, with one of them being running. Gross. 

“I’m really, really passionate about Shakespeare,” Tom said, as if he was telling me a deep, dark secret. Pretty sure that was obvious to all who met him. “And I am a big, big tennis fan. I go nuts over it.”

I nodded my head. Tennis was a good sport. Of course, you either have to be there in person or playing it to fully enjoy it, in my opinion, at least. “Well, you and Leo have something in common, then.”

Just as if he was listening to our conversation, Leo chimed in, right on cue. 

“Maybe if you’re lucky enough Kate will get you an invite to her Wimbledon party,” he said.

Tom’s mouth dropped open. “You’re having a Wimbledon party?”

I shot Leo a look before dabbing my mouth on my napkin. “It’s not my party. Adidas is throwing a viewing party and they reserved some seats. Nothing too major.”

“That’s very exciting!”

I felt a nudge in my back from Leo. I see what he was getting at. He was using the event as a way for me to see Tom again, this time in a more personal atmosphere. So now he’s playing matchmaker? 

“If you’re in town then you should come,” I offered, feeling Leo’s elbow leave the middle of my back. Jackass. “I’ll put your name on the list.”

“I would love that, Kate. Thank you so much,” Tom had a huge smile on his face. I couldn’t help but feel giddy, proud that I put that there. “I’ve been to Wimbledon, before, but nothing so formal. I met Andy Murray once, but very briefly.”

“Well, I guess it’s your lucky day,” Leo piped up again. “Kate knows Andy!”

I thought Tom’s head was going to explode. I couldn’t help but laugh, catching the attention of everyone else at our table, and maybe even the tables next to us.

“No! I really don’t know him, know him,” I explained through my laughing. “We share a sponsor.”

“D-do you think I c-could talk with him?” Tom asked like a child asking for a present from Santa Clause. My heart just melted. Even though I didn’t know if I could make that happen, I was damned to try.

“Well,” I leaned in a little bit closer to Tom, catching a whiff of his cologne. _Focus, Kate, focus._ “If you can keep it a secret, I may be doing a photo shoot with him earlier that week. Perhaps I can arrange something.”

“I don’t even know what to say.” Tom was astonished and suddenly, I felt a certain kind of pride in my sponsor. 

After our meal was finished, dessert — a cheesecake — was served. I was only able to fit a few bites in my full belly, giving the rest to Sam, who was having himself “a happy little cheat night.” Many people were starting to get up from their tables and mill around, including Tom, who was talking to Benedict Cumberbatch. I met him once while my sister did a period piece. I think I was 18 at the time and busy studying European medieval history in college, so I begged and begged Brittney to do a period piece. She obliged and flew me to set during my two-week summer break. I was able to meet Benedict, though I doubt he even remembers me. 

After finishing my second drink, I decided to call it a night, since both Sam and I had to catch our flights back to Atlanta in ten hours. 

I said goodbye to Mr. Scorsese, who said I had a wonderful acceptance speech and “should think about earning my own acting awards,” and Leo, who had a huge grin on his face. 

“You better be careful, you don’t want to be uninvited from _my_ Wimbledon party,” I whispered in his ear. He just laughed. 

I was going to say goodbye to Tom, but couldn’t find him anywhere. Slightly dejected, I made my way to the door and was about to exit when I heard Tom’s voice.

“It was good to see you again, Kate,” he said. Seriously, that voice could end wars. I just couldn’t help but smile. 

I took a couple steps over to him, meeting him halfway between the door and the hallway he just came out of. “You, too. I hope to see you in June, then.”

Tom bobbed his head up and down, almost as if he wanted to say something else. I turned to walk out the door when he blurted it out. “Are you ever in L.A. much?”

I shook my head. “Not really. After we film Mockingjay I’ll be back in Ann Arbor. I may fly out now and then for sponsor stuff.”

“Oh.” He smile fell. “That’s too bad.”

 _That’s too bad?_ “Yeah.”

We were just standing there looking at each other — really awkwardly, I might add — so I decided to say goodnight, when he suddenly blurted out, “can I get your number?”

I was taken back at his directness. He wanted my number? Me? Kate Miller? Why? 

“Fuck. Sorry,” he ran his hand through his hair, messing up how he had it laying. “God, this is not going how I had planned. I had this whole conversation worked up earlier and it all went to bloody hell.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. And laugh. And laugh. Eventually Tom started laughing too, but it was more of a nervous laugh. Probably along the lines of, “why is she laughing? Is she going to give me her number?”

“I just feel like we keep seeing each other in odd coincidences,” Tom explained. “Not that I haven’t enjoyed our time together. But I would like to see you in a planned circumstance. Get to know you more when your sister or Mr. DiCaprio aren’t around.”

I felt a blush creep onto my face. My stomach did flip flops and my heart raced. Suddenly my hands were a bit sweaty. _Oh no! I hope he doesn’t ask to hold my hand!_ “I would love to give you my phone number.”

Like a weight was lifted off his shoulders, Tom’s face lit up and he happily reached into his pocket, producing his iPhone. I typed in my name and phone number, as well as my email address, as he stood there bouncing on his feet. Even he was nervous. 

After I saved the contact information, I handed the phone back to Tom, who looked at it and smiled before slipping it back into his pocket. “I hope we can meet up before June.”

“I do, too.” It was true and even I couldn’t believe it. Here I was, not even 12 hours earlier, cursing a relationship with Tom. And now, I am giving him my number and hoping to see him before my next trip to London. 

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Luke, Tom’s publicist, walking up behind him, no doubt running the moment for an interview. Instead of having Tom pulled away from me, I decided to end the night in true “Hiddleston fashion.” 

“Goodnight, Tom,” I said, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Talk to you later.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of fillerish. Thanks for reading!
> 
> Also, I am toying with the idea of writing a few stand alone chapters from Tom's POV. Anyone interested in that — and if so, what chapters would you like to see from his POV? :)

From the minute I took off my shoes in my hotel room to the minute I boarded the plane taking me back to Atlanta, I kept replaying last night’s events. Tom’s hand touching mine, his scent tickling my nose as I leaned in to talk to him and his rich voice asking for my number. 

I didn’t get much sleep last night — er, this morning — since I kept thinking about everything. And of course, there was Britt’s pestering phone calls.

_Sarah and her crew had just left my hotel room — at one in the morning, by the way — after helping me get undressed. As they worked me out of the dress, Sarah asked me about the night, commenting on my acceptance speech. Once she had the dress off, inspected and back in its bag, she left to another hotel up the street to collect from another celebrity. I was just about to take my makeup off when I heard my phone go off in the other room._

_“Hello?” I answered without looking at the caller ID. But I had a feeling who it would be._

_“How was everything?” Britt’s voice flowed through the speaker. “I watched a little on the live feed. You looked so beautiful! I loved the dress. And you and Leo were so cute. And that acceptance speech was so touching. I shed a few tears, I won’t lie!”_

_“Woah, woah — breathe!” I laughed. When my sister gets excited, she gets excited. I decided to answer in the order she asked. “Not too bad. Glad you were able to watch. I loved the dress, I wish it wasn’t thousands of dollars or I would buy it. Leo kept pinching my arm when the camera was on us. And I meant every word I said.”_

_“Breathe, Katie.” Brittney laughed. “The live feed cut out right before the Best Actress category, but Tom sent me a video of you. I sent it to Mom, too.”_

_“Yeah, I thought I saw him doing something with his phone. He’s like a proud parent.”_

_We talked a little bit more about the night, such as who I saw and talked to, what I ate (mainly because I wanted to talk about that) and the plan tomorrow — er, the next day — for Britt to pick me up from the airport._

_We were just about all talked out when Britt danced on a certain topic._

_“So…I also received some interesting texts from Leo,” she started._

_I just didn’t have the energy in me. Not when I have to be on a plane in five hours. And still pack. “Britt, can we not do this tonight? I can fill you in on it tomorrow.”_

_“Oh, okay,” she sounded upset. “I will see you tomorrow then.”_

_She said a curt goodbye and hung up. Great, just what I want to deal with tomorrow._

_I was finally able to take my make up off, undo my hair and start the beginning of my packing when my phone rang once again. It was Britt._

_“Hellllooo?”_

_“Why the hell won’t you talk to me about Tom?”_

_I let out a sigh. Clearly I would be getting no sleep tonight. “I’m just really tired. I can’t really even think clearly about what happened.”_

_“I can tell you like Tom and I want to know what you’re getting into,” she countered. “You’ve dated some real piece of works.”_

_I sat on my bed and stared at the electrical outlet while she spoke. She proceeded to go on and on about my exes: Daniel, my high school boyfriend — and probably the only real guy I ever truly loved — who couldn’t handle my sudden rise in status, Luke, my other high school boyfriend who decide during our freshman year of college that he should remain single, Garrett, who had another girl on the side and would meet up with her while I was away on swim trips, Brett — the first athlete I ever dated — who kept saying swimming “didn’t count” as a sport and I should stick to modeling swimsuits, and Greg, who was just a pig that believed women couldn’t do anything worth importance, including win a gold medal. Apart from my high school boyfriends, I stayed with Greg the longest. It was just so much fun to prove him wrong._

_“I just don’t want to see you get hurt. Again,” Brittney whispered._

_“I know. You mean well,” I replied. I let out a deep breath and told her everything. “I do kind of like him, but I don’t really want to. He films movies all year, so where does that leave me? Does he expect me to go with him and stay by his side? If I don’t, will he find another woman that will?”_

_“I don’t think he will have any expectations of you,” Britt responded. “You barely know him. Go on a date and get to know him. If he wants any of that, cut him loose. You deserve better than that.”_

_“That’s the other thing,” I said. “His fame is increasing. If we go out, I don’t want to cause a media storm. I can’t deal with that again. I just —”_

_“I won’t let that happen,” my sister vowed. She knew how much I hated the tabloid media. You had to twist my arm to do an interview, which is why I didn’t do that many for the Catching Fire press tour. I barely liked having my picture taken when I won a medal, let alone just walking down the street. “If you and Tom get serious, you’ll have to let him know, though.”_

_I nodded my head. Like she could even see me. “Yeah, okay.”_

_“It’s all going to be okay,” she assured me. “Now get some sleep. See you tomorrow.”_

_After we hung up, I held my head in my hands and thought about Tom. I really did like him and we seemed to have a great connection. We seemed to have some things in common and similar interests. Plus we both laughed whenever we were together. That obviously meant something, right?_

_I finished packing, more or less shoving clothes in my suitcase, dressed in the clothes I would be wearing on the plane and laid on my bed. If I slept right away, I could get two hours of sleep before the car would arrive to take me to the airport._

_Shockingly, I was about to sleep when my phone rang once more. Brittney. Brittney Elizabeth Miller._

_“I was almost asleep,” I mumbled._

_“I’m sorry, but I can’t sleep without knowing what you two talked about.”_

_I rolled my eyes. Obviously there would be no sleep for either one of us._

It was late afternoon when Sam and I landed in Atlanta. Britt was waiting for us at the departure area of the airport and would be taking us to the set. We had a scene to film in a few hours. As she drove us to set, her and Sam talked about the upcoming scenes left to film. Britt’s part wasn’t that big in the last book, but some more time was being worked in the movies. I was happy, because that meant more time with my big sister.

We pulled onto the lot and I remembered I hadn’t yet turned my phone back on. As soon as I did, I had many alerts for emails, tweets, Facebook notes, missed phone calls and texts. Many of the texts were from friends congratulating my sister (and my speech) and saying how pretty my dress was. I replied to a few and reminded myself to get back to the others. I was about to put my phone away when one more text came straggling in. It was from an unfamiliar number.

_“She’s beautiful, and therefore to be wooed…” Once again, you looked gorgeous last night. I hope to see you before June. — Tom_

Shakespeare. Of course. 

A smile spread across my face and a warm feeling spread to my heart. It was then and there I decided to take a risk and give Tom a chance. I quickly saved his number to my phone, silently reminding myself to send him a reply once my head was clear.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fillerish again...sorry!
> 
> (Also — could someone tell me how to link pictures into a text? I seem to be having an issue doing it!)

The last months of filming seemed to fly by, but that’s probably due to how action packed it was. If we weren’t filming our action scenes, we were learning moves for another scene, camera blocking them and rehearsing. I’ve always been an athletic person, but there were even some times I was out of my league. 

Many nights I would go back to my shared apartment with Jen and our muscles would be burning. I came close to spraining my ankle a couple of times and I even had to buy a extra large ice pack for my head after I was bumped by a prop. No big deal, though. Just another day at the office, according to Jen. 

One of the things that got me through it all — next to our brownie and cookie baking sessions (okay, maybe more cookie dough and brownie batter eating sessions since Jen and I were too tired to fully bake) — were the text messages Tom would send me. Since we were both filming weird hours, our messages were hours — and sometimes even days — apart, but our conversation never stopped. We talked about what he was doing, what I was doing, a little about our childhoods and more basic, first-date stuff or just even send cheerful, uplifting messages. 

There had been a few incidents when we planned to meet up, but something always got in the way. 

In March, I was supposed to fly back to Ann Arbor, where I would be a guest judge at the University of Michigan’s Mock Rock, which raised money for the local children’s hospital. Since I had a few days break from filming, I was planning to drive up to Toronto, which was a four-hour drive, to visit Tom. But thanks to Mother Nature, a blizzard thwarted my plans of even getting out of Atlanta. 

In April, both Tom and I were going to attend the MTV Movie Awards in April — where I won an award for Catching Fire — and we planned to go out for a late dinner afterward. Two weeks after we made out plans, he had to back out since he was nominated for Best Actor at the Olivier Awards, which were held the same night in London. 

So it looked like we would have to stick with our original June date.

In May we moved the filming location to Berlin, Germany, and would end in France in a couple of weeks. I’ve been to Germany many times, so I was very familiar with the areas we were filming in. The days were long, especially since I was in many scenes during this period. I was also trying to stay consistent in my swimming, since I would be coming off a two-year break in August. I hoped to make the National team and compete at the Pan Pacific Championship in Australia. It wasn’t pretty, but at least I was swimming. 

Because my days were either full of filming, swimming or sleeping, I didn’t get the chance to talk with Tom much. But that all changed when we moved to France, about an hour outside Paris. We shot in the countryside, an hour outside of Paris. Whenever I had a couple days break, I would either head into Paris and visit friends or travel to the northwest and visit family. My grandmother — you guessed it, another famous actress — was from the Brittany region of France, hence Britt’s name. I had a bunch of cousins and aunts who still lived there.

After I was done filming, my parents and brother, as well as Britt, were flying out for a family vacation in France, where we would visit more family, before flying to Greece and visiting my grandfather’s family. His parents immigrated to the U.S. and had my grandfather, who learned English by memorizing lines from radio broadcasts and school plays, which only increased his interest in acting. While he was filming his first movie in Paris, he met my grandmother, who was a stage singer in a bar, and wooed her. After they married — a whopping three weeks after meeting — they returned to the U.S. and made an impressive career in Hollywood. 

But for right now, I was at my Aunt Arlette’s home on the coast, spending my last few hours of free time on the natural rock bridge leading to the beach. The air was still pretty cool, forcing me to wear one of Aunt Arlette’s sweaters, which was four times too big in the chest region. 

I was thinking about going back in the home when my phone rang. Figuring it would be my sister, I hit the “accept” button before really even looking at the caller ID.

“Do you miss me already?”

“Well, it has been a while.”

_Oh my god. This is not happening._

“Tom!” I could feel my cheeks go red. “I thought you were someone else. Sorry.”

“It’s quite all right,” he laughed. I could hear some honks and traffic noises as his backdrop, a stark contrast from my peaceful landscape. “I was surrounded by stuffy old monotone voices today, so I needed to hear a cheerful voice.”

“And you thought of me, how sweet,” I got up from my spot and walked down the bridge to the beach. There were some people out walking their dogs and a few couples taking a stroll, but the beach wasn’t too busy. “Are you back in London now?”

“Finally, yes,” he said. I could hear the traffic noise lessen, meaning he must have gone inside. “I start filming in a couple of weeks here, so I’ve been catching up with friends and family. I went for a run just now.”

“Loving to run. You’re a rare breed, Tom Hiddleston,” I teased him.

“Well, I’m not adapted to the water, so what’s a poor bloke to do?” I heard more shuffling and a door closing on the other end. He must have been inside his home. “Are you still in Germany?”

“No, we moved to France now. We’re nearly done with filming. I had the weekend off, so I’m visiting family in St. Malo.”

“Hey! I took holiday there once. It’s so peaceful.”

“Yeah, it’s been nice to be in peace and think.”

“And what are you thinking about, if I may ask?” 

I got the feeling Tom was wondering if I was thinking about him, about our — whatever you call this. It was kind of cute. “Pretty much about swimming. Nationals is coming up soon and I’ll only have trained three months. It’s not going to be pretty.”

“I’m sure you will make the team with ease and grace,” Tom offered. He was obviously just being polite. I thanked him and we moved on with our conversation, talking about what else Tom would be doing while on a short break. 

An hour later, we were still heavily in discussion, this time about some auditions Tom would be going on in the near future. He would be auditioning via Skype for Mr. Scorsese’s newest project. Tom must have made an impression on Mr. Scorsese after meeting at the BAFTAs, because he was offered an audition from Mr. Scorsese himself. From what Tom said, he was only auditioning a dozen people. 

“Let me know how it goes,” I told him. “That so exciting!”

“Thank you, Kate,” I loved hearing him say my name. I wish he would say it more. Is that weird?

We were about to hang up when I remembered the most important piece of news I wanted to share with Tom. “I forgot! What are you doing a few days before the kick off of Wimbledon?”

“Just filming, I think. Why?”

“Well, I may or may not be doing a joint photo shoot with Andy Murray,” I heard Tom gasp. I broke out into a smile. “And I have it on good authority that he may be practicing a little bit while on set.”

“Do you think I could come to set?”

“You better,” I laughed out loud. “Why else would I be telling you this?”

“Kate, I don’t even know what to say! Yes! I will come to the set! I’ll be there whenever you want me to be there. I’ll do anything you ask!”

I laughed again, feeling a slight blush creep on my cheeks when I thought of some of the things he could do. “That’s a dangerous thing to promise.”


	11. Chapter 11

Ten minutes. 

600 seconds.

That’s how far away Tom was from the set of the photo shoot. After months separated by states, countries and oceans, only a couple of streets stood between us. 

Adidas was kicking off a new marketing campaign to promote the upcoming Olympics. The new campaign will air across multi-media platforms across the world this August, which makes two years until Rio de Janeiro. The campaign would feature Andy Murray, Usain Bolt, who just ended his contract with Puma, Dwight Howard, fellow swimmer César Cielo and myself, all billed as the best athletes in the world. We would also do some short films with retired athletes as mentors, such as David Beckham and Ian Thorpe, another good swimmer friend.

Today, it was just Andy and myself. We were taking some marketing photos for the campaign before Wimbledon began. They would Photoshop us into a big group photo. Since the complex we were shooting at had a tennis court and pool, I was doing some swimming shots for the new swimwear line. I just finished my shots swimming when I went to my bag and checked my phone, seeing that Tom was not far away. 

After reading his text, I ripped off my swim cap and tried to fluff some life back in my somewhat damp hair. I was still in my racing suit, and still would be when he arrived since it took a good 15 minutes to get in and out of. This was not how I envisioned seeing Tom. While racing suits were excellent for swimming, they were horrible fashion statements. Even though mine was black with a bright pink stripes on the sides, it still flattened my barely there chest, concealed my ass (which I was somewhat proud of) and gave me a boyish shape. Not cute. 

“Girl, what are you doing?” Donovan, my stylist, asked. Donovan had worked for Adidas for a year now and he was my hair, make up and clothing stylist for all the photo shoots I had. He was gay, he was sassy and he was fabulous. 

“A friend is coming to set for the afternoon, and I don’t want to be seen like this.”

“Is this a guy friend?” I just stared back at him, not wanting to make a bigger deal out of this situation than it already is. “I take your silence as a yes.”

Before we could do anything about it, I saw Tom walk in the arena. He wore light wash jeans, a grey shirt and a black zip up cardigan. One of the interns went up to him, I assume asking him why he was here. I took a deep breath, hoping that would encourage me to think of a good conversation opener, but it didn’t.

“Is that him?” Donovan pulled his sunglasses down to get a better look. “Girl, he is yummy.”

Donovan practically shoved me over to where he was. I shot him a dirty look as I went to save Tom from whatever the intern was explaining to him. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in anything other than a tux,” I yelled to Tom as I walked over to him. _That’s your opening line? Smooth, Kate._ “I didn’t know it was you.” _Yeah, that’s not any better._

Tom gave me his trademark mega watt smile, instantly making me smile. Instead of kissing me on the cheek like he had in our last meetings, Tom opened his arms to me and enveloped me in a friendly hug. It was probably the best hug I ever received. His one arm was wrapped around my shoulders and his other one rested just below, pulling me close to his body. He smelled really good, too.

“It’s either this or a tux, those are my only options,” Tom shot back. “Aren’t you cold in…that?”

I looked down to my suit. The International Swimming Federation banned full body suits, so we were only allowed to wear tank-style racing suits that ended at our knees. “Yeah, whoever planned this photoshoot to be in chilly London needs to be shot.” 

“Do you want my sweater? I don’t want you to freeze.”

So polite. So cute. So Tom. “Thanks, but I’ll be changing soon. Hopefully.” _Dear god, hopefully._ “I’m glad you could take an afternoon off from filming.”

“Yeah, me too,” he kept a giddy smile on his face. “I’ll have a couple more days filming and a few days off, so I hope to get in a couple matches.”

We talked a little bit more about the upcoming Wimbledon tournament and Tom’s filming schedule. “Kate, what are you doing after the shoot today?”

I was about to answer when I heard the familiar voice of Andy Murray. I looked behind me and saw he was coming this way, just ending a call on his cell phone. I looked back at Tom, who had a more serious look on his face, and smiled.

“Come here,” I held out my hand to him and he took it. For once, my hands weren’t sweaty; instead, they were ice cold since they were exposed to cold air for so long. I pulled Tom up with me and walked us over to Andy. 

“Hey, Kate,” Andy smiled. I felt Tom’s hand tighten around my hand. 

“Hey,” I smiled back. “I want to introduce my friend Tom to you. He came to visit me this afternoon.”

“Yeah, we’ve met before, a couple years ago,” Andy stretched his hand out and shook Tom’s. “It’s nice to see you again. I loved the Avengers.”

“Oh, my god, mate, thanks. I’m such a huge fan.” Even though Tom was talking with Andy about tennis, he still held my hand. I looked down at our joined hands and smiled. They fit perfectly together. 

“You missed Kate attempting to serve earlier,” Andy offered, spitting out laughs in between the story. “I tried to go easy on her, but I think her right shoulder would say otherwise. She took a direct hit.”

“I have a welt!” I pulled down the strap of my suit with my free hand to show off my reddened welt and laughed. “I’m so glad that was not documented. We’re going to rematch later in the pool.”

We talked a little bit more about Adidas’ new campaign before Andy’s coach interrupted us. 

“We need to warm up and practice,” he shouted from across the court. “Come on, Andy!”

“Tom, want to warm me up?” Andy asked.

Tom’s eyes went big, but he quickly recovered. Obviously he was trying to remind himself to be cool. “Yeah, that would be fun.” Tom turned to me with a beaming smile, larger than I have ever seen it. “I don’t even know what to say. Thank you, thank you, thank you, Kate.”

He pressed a kiss to my cheek before running after Andy. He picked up a spare racket and got on his side of the court, mirroring Andy. I took an empty seat near the court and watched the two hit the yellow ball back and forth. I had to admit, Tom was pretty good. Maybe in another life he was a tennis pro. 

As I watched the two go back and forth, the hits became a little bit fiercer, complete with grunting and other noises. Twenty minutes in, I realized I still had a smile on my face. In fact, ever since I’ve been with Tom today, the smile never left.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a goodie chapter! Please leave a comment on your way out!
> 
> (Here's the swimsuit I talk about — I still don't know how to link a photo in. sorry! http://www.farfetch.com/fr/shopping/women/designer-3am-3am-b518-verde-polyamide-item-10296601.aspx?country=28)

Tom and Andy were still going at it when Donovan walked over to me and called me back over to the pool. I was going to tell Tom where I was going, but he was pretty into his game. He threw off his sweater long ago when the game started to heat up.

When I renegotiated my contract with Adidas in 2011, one of the things I wanted to do was create my own swimwear down the road. They promised to help me when that time came. Since Adidas was one of the designers of the outfits we used in Catching Fire, I was able to learn and pitch some ideas. A year of hard work later, and I was launching my own swim line. Next week I would have a launching party here in London and two in New York City and L.A. in a couple of weeks. 

“You didn’t tell me your boyfriend was that sexy, honey,” Donovan said. I took my seat in the make up chair.

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Yet.”

I rolled my eyes. Donovan applied more powder to my face and began applying eyeliner, eye shadow and more mascara to my face. “I’m going to make you look like a show stopper. That boy will stop what he’s doing to just get a glance of you.”

Donovan ran the flat iron over my hair, which took less time to do since I had to cut it for my role in Mockingjay. It was cut in an A-line bob, which looked cute either curly or straight. Donovan kept my make up soft, but noticeable. 

“Now, you were supposed to wear this suit for the photos in the catalog and photos at the release party, but I think you should go with this one,” Donovan held up a turquoise two piece in favor of my black beaded one piece. 

“I don’t know if my body is quite ready for that,” I nibbled on my lower lip, nervous of being in that in front of Tom. 

“Shut up, bitch,” Donovan retorted. “You’re fabulous.”

I took the suit from Donovan and went behind our makeshift changing room, which was just two large sheets pinned against two walls and joined with clothespins. It took a while to get my racing suit off, but it came off with ease. I slid the strapless bikini on and marveled at how cute it was. Things look different on versus in print. This one I co-designed with one of the Adidas designers. It was a couple shades darker than turquoise and made with lacey-type material. Tribal prints were printed on it and beadwork was done in some spots. Obviously I wouldn’t swim for great distances in this suit, but I would wear it to the beach or poolside. 

Since production wrapped filming in May, I had gone full-time into swimming once again. I was starting to get my racing shape back, but things weren’t as toned as I would have liked them to be, especially if they were going to be available for the world to see. But it would have to do. 

I adjusted the suit around my butt before walking out of the room. Donovan stopped what he was doing and sighed. “Girl, you almost make me wish I was hetero,” he took my hand and twirled me around. “You’ll bring all the boys to the yard with that number.”

I wanted to retort with something clever, but Donovan interrupted me.

“Excuse me, miss, is that a welt?” he pointed to my shoulder. “Or a hickey?” He laughed at his own joke. 

“That would be the work of one Andy Murray and a mean serve,” I offered. Donovan just rolled his eyes and covered up the red mark. 

After he was done, I grabbed my thin zip up hoodie and slipped it on. It ended just above the line where my bikini bottoms started. I watched Donovan pack up a small tool kit, securing it across his waist. He gave my hair and make up one last touch up before we left the make up area. 

“So this guy and you, you’re not dating?” Donovan whispered to me. I glanced over to the tennis court and saw that the game was finished. Tom was watching Andy fully practice, which was more like an actual match. 

“No, we kept meeting at events by coincidence. He asked for my number in February and we’ve been talking since.”

“So, is this a date?”

Wow, I hadn’t thought of it like that. “Uh, I don’t know.”

Donovan gave me a look as the crew finished setting up for the photo shoot. I stood off to the side, where Tom soon joined me. 

“I wasn’t sure where you went,” he said from behind me. I turned to him to hear what he was about to say but he went silent. “I, uh….the, um…” He was trying to keep his eyes level with mine, but I could tell he was failing. 

I suppressed my smile. I glanced over at Donovan who didn’t care about hiding his large smile. “So, how was the game?”

“I lost, but I don’t care,” he laughed. “So, your suit, it’s uh…I, um…”

“Fear that I may catch pneumonia?” I finished, causing Tom to laugh once again, but this time more nervous. 

The director of photography called action on the shoot, calling me over to my spot. I gave a smirk over to Donovan and turned back to Tom, whose eyes were fighting a losing battle to not roam over my body. _So the eye fucking continues?_

“Will you hold this?” I yanked off my jacket, exposing my shoulders and chest to the cool air and Tom’s wandering eyes. Tom gently took my jacket, nodding his head. “Thanks.”

I turned to walk away from wear we were standing, hoping my ass looked good. Donovan game me a wicked smile as he met me at my mark, taking hairspray to my hair. 

“You are wicked,” he whispered. “I can practically see the boner over here.”

“Shut up!” I shot back. 

“Boy Scouts could camp under there!”

The photographer posed me in a number of different shots, standing against the wall, standing with my hands on my hips or side and back views of the suit. Donovan would occasionally step in and touch up hair and make up, whispering every time how I was driving Tom crazy. I would look over once in a while and see him intently watching. 

“Let’s change into another suit,” the director of the shoot said. “Let’s do the blue and grey one.”

Before I went back to change, I went over to Tom. 

“I’m sure this isn’t any fun,” I said. It couldn’t be. Watch another person have their photo taken? “I’m sure Andy will be done soon. You could go back to talking to him if you want.”

“No, I’m having a great time,” Tom assured me. I smiled at him and walked away to change, feeling his eyes on my backside. 

“Of course he’s having a great time,” Donovan whispered to me. “He’s staring at a half naked girl. That’s every straight guys’ dream!”

I quickly changed into my next suit, a light blue and grey cloth bikini that was twisted in the front, making it look like the two pieces of fabric were tied together. After doing a few more shots in that suit, I went back and changed into another one, this time a multi color tribal print suit. I was also able to wear some of my favorite one piece suits I designed, a couple of them even by myself. One was the black lacey and beaded mesh suit I was supposed to start in and the other was a black suit with a deep v-neck and a white ruffle around the top, making the harsh cut of the dress softer. 

Two hours later we were setting up the last few shots. I was wearing my USA suit, with the stripes of the flag on the bottom of my bikini and the stars on the top, complete with fringe. The crew was still setting up the set, which moved over to the pool, so I decided to sit with Tom, who was still just as wide eyed as he was earlier. 

“Here,” he offered me his sweater, which was much thicker than my jacket. It ended mid-thigh and was super soft. It smelled like him, a mixture of his cologne, a fruity, herby woody scent, sandalwood and a touch of sweat. “How’s your welt?”

I pulled Tom’s sweater down my shoulder so we could take a look. I couldn’t tell if it was make up or not, but it looked better. “Seems to be getting better. Damn, Andy.”

I was about pull the sweater back when Tom reached his thumb up to the spot. “May I?” I nodded my head, the words going dry in my mouth. He pressed the welt, for whatever reason may be. Even though it was a simple touch, his touch was electric. The pad of his finger was slightly rough, a sharp contrast from the soft skin of my shoulder. “That welt may be there for a while.”

“Great,” I laughed. 

Tom reluctantly slid his finger away from the spot, but the feeling remained in my body.

“Kate, what are you doing after this?”

“Nothing, why?”

“Would you go to dinner with me? I feel like I need to do something to thank you for my amazing day,” Tom smiled. As if I wasn’t already going to say yes, his smile would have convinced me otherwise. “Besides, you may need coffee to warm up.”

“I’d love that, Tom.”

“Katie poo, we need you,” Donovan’s voice broke up our conversation. I got up and slipped off Tom’s sweater, immediately shivering when the cool air hit me. I already couldn’t wait for my coffee. 

“Did I hear dinner plans?” Donovan whispered. 

“It’s not polite to eavesdrop,” I teased. 

“Girl, this is the most action I’ve ever seen on set, I have to,” he responded. He took out a large fluffy brush and spread some more powder across my face. “You two keep making eyes at each other. And he keeps staring at you and adjusting his pants.”

“Oh my god,” I laughed.

“My god, too!”

I laughed once more. Sometimes I was embarrassed by what came out of Donovan’s mouth. Especially when it came to my love life, if this was what that was. 

“Promise me when you two do it tonight you’ll tell me how it was?” Donovan pouted, trying to give me a puppy dog look.

“I am not having sex with him tonight!”

Donovan dramatically rolled his eyes and stepped back. The photographer posed me for a couple more shots in front of the pool. After a few shots like that, he had me get in the pool, which was much warmer than the air. I jumped in the pool like a shot, my feet pressing the bottom of the pool and pushing myself up to the top. 

I took a couple of shots on the side of the pool, halfway sitting on the edge and halfway in the pool, and a couple more on the ladder of the pool. As the final shots were reviewed, Tom walked over to the pool to talk to me.

“How’s the water?”

“Nice, do you want to come in for a swim?” I stretched my hand up to him.

“No, no, no,” he backed away. “Don’t you dare!”

I laughed, just as the director called the photos good, signaling the end of the photo shoot. I pulled myself out of the pool and laughed as Tom stepped back when the water streamed off my body. He handed me a nearby towel and I thanked him. 

“I’ll just get changed and we can go,” I said as I wrapped the towel around my body. 

“Take your time,” he called after me. 

I quickly changed into what I wore when I arrived to set at 7 a.m., a pair of dark wash jeans, a white tank top and a white, long sleeve laced over shirt. Donovan re-did my hair and makeup. Technically, he didn’t have to do this since my shoot was done, but he was already too invested in what was going on with Tom and I. Plus, he really was a great friend. 

“All done, Katie Poo,” he said in his sing song-ey voice. “Now, go get your man.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here are the other suits:  
> http://www.pinterest.com/pin/20547742024822498/  
> http://www.pinterest.com/pin/241013017533302540/  
> http://www.pinterest.com/pin/335518240961641280/  
> http://www.pinterest.com/pin/251779435387946169/  
> http://www.pinterest.com/pin/243475923579020899/


	13. Chapter 13

I would have liked to believe I had gone out with gentlemen before, but after just twenty minutes with Tom, he put them all to shame. 

When I met him to leave the sporting complex, he took my training bag from me, which had a couple of the swimsuits I wore inside. He opened the passenger door to his Jaguar for me when we left the sporting complex and when we arrived to the restaurant, a little bistro that was just a few streets up from where the photo shoot was held. He even held out my chair for me when we were directed to our table. 

The bistro wasn’t at full capacity, which was odd since it was just after 6 p.m., but we were still placed towards the back of the restaurant. 

“I come here quite a bit,” Tom said as we looked over the menu, almost like he was answering the question I had in my head. “They know I like to sit far back.”

“I’m sure it’s hard to eat a meal when people are staring or coming up to you,” I offered.

“It doesn’t really happen much,” he replied, setting his menu down. “Generally, people are respectful.”

A waitress came to take our orders. Both of us ordered the fish and chips, while Tom made sure I got coffee. Once the waitress was gone, Tom brought back the conversation.

“So, I have to be truthful. I Googled you,” Tom almost sounded embarrassed. I found it hilarious, so I laughed. 

“And?”

“Do you still have Hubert?” Tom was referring to my stuffed monkey that I was pictured with at the Atlanta Olympics. Since I was nervous about swimming in such a big venue, I took my stuffed monkey on deck with me. Amanda Beard, who will never admit it now, was also nervous, so she brought her stuffed bear out as well.

“Oh god!” I gently kicked Tom’s foot as both of us laughed. “Yes, Hubert is still very much a supporter of my swimming. He cheers from home now.”

“So, how does one get into swimming at such a young age?”

“You have a near death experience,” I responded, causing Tom’s eyes to go wide. “I grew up on Lake Michigan, so my mom taught us kids how to swim in the lake. When I was five, I went out too far and slid off a sandbar and nearly drowned.”

“How terrifying!”

“Yeah, I was afraid to go back in the water, so my mom signed me up for swimming lessons. Then it just kind of went from there. My coach thought I was a natural and had raw talent, so he encouraged me to enter some swim meets.”

“And to receive a medal at the age of nine?” Tom gave a polite “thanks” to the waitress as she dropped off our drinks. I added a little sugar to my coffee and took a sip. 

“Yeah, that was unexpected,” I smiled, remembering my reaction to making my first Olympic team. Then my smile faded when I remembered what happened after that.

Once I was named to the swimming team, there was a huge backlash. I ended up taking seventh place in the 100 meter final, with the top six earning a spot on the relay. The person who finished sixth tested positive for a steroid, bumping me up to the team. Many people — coaches, swimmers, swimming analysts and even other parents — thought I shouldn’t be on the team due to my age. Even though I had earned a spot based on my performance, people didn’t want me there and I didn’t understand that. Because of them, my making the team would always be tainted and leave a bitter taste in my mouth.

My coach, the head of USA Swimming and fellow swimmer Jenny Thompson, who looked after me during the Olympics, were the only ones who were in my corner. Ultimately, I was allowed to go, but once my part in the Olympics was over, I was sent home. The Olympic Village was no place for a nine year old. 

“People were just really nasty, especially the media, so I’m pretty cautious when it comes to interviews and stuff like that,” I said. Of course, there was a whole other reason, but I didn’t want to drop that on Tom today. “It’s still a sore spot, not only for me, but for my family.”

“That’s just horrible,” Tom said. Somewhere during my story Tom took my hand from across the table and was gently stroking his thumb over my knuckles. “I’m sure something like that changed you.”

“It did. But now, nearly 20 years later, I can see their point. That was a lot of pressure on me. I was just a kid, but I was having to change and start acting like a professional athlete,” I couldn’t believe I was admitting this to Tom. I hadn’t admitted this to anybody besides my coach. “But my family wouldn’t let me turn into a machine. My mom was adamant about me doing other activities and being a kid. That’s what saved me, probably.” 

The waitress brought our food a long time ago, but neither one of us had touched what was in front of us. 

“We’ve been talking an awful lot about me,” I broke up the serious conversation. I really didn’t like talking about myself. “I want to know more about you.”

As we ate, Tom talked about his schooling, the first few years of his career and more about parents’ divorce and his time at boarding school. 

“I really blamed my dad for the whole situation,” he said. “I don’t anymore, since I understand it better. But our relationship just hasn’t been the same, but we're working on it. I’ve also seemed to communicate and work better with my mum.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” I said. That’s one area of life I would never know about — hopefully — since my parents were college sweethearts, married now for 42 years.

“I’ve learned from it that when I get married, it’s going to last and be forever,” Tom said, not really speaking to me directly.

A silence fell over us as we finished our meals. Not wanting it to turn awkward, I decided to change the topic and crack a joke.

“So, in your Google search, you didn’t happen to find my sex tape, right?” Tom’s eyes went wide and I couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m just kidding!”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the long wait — I was on vacation! But here we go, hopefully a chapter you will all enjoy! Thanks for reading!

As I laid out my clothes for tomorrow’s activities, I debated whether or not to text Britt my report of the day. I decided I would, since I’m sure she needed a smile. After all, I’m in London while she’s in New York City. She had to be missing me. 

_Photo shoot went well. Picked up some extra swimsuits for us. Kissed Tom. Picked up Dad’s birthday gift. Will see Jake tomorrow for lunch._

I estimated it would take her a minute to reply, but I was proved wrong when I heard my phone ring not twenty seconds later. 

“You had better be joking with that little tidbit of information,” Britt said in place of a “hello.”

I simply laughed and replayed my evening for her. 

_I didn’t want my night with Tom to end, but since he had to be on set at five in the morning, it would be an early night. After dinner, he drove me back to my hotel, which was in Stratford, just a short cab ride down the street from the London Aquatics Center, where I competed in the 2012 London Games. On the ride over, Tom told me how disappointed he was he didn’t get to attend any of the Olympic events, since he was beginning pre-production on Thor: the Dark World._

_“It really was my favorite Olympics,” I told him. “I mean, I did get to meet the Spice Girls.”_

_Tom shook his head and laughed. “Typical American.”_

_“Oh, like you’ve never danced to Spice Up Your Life? Doubtful.”_

_We continued our short destination, made longer by the thriving traffic life of downtown London. Once he pulled in front of my hotel, he parked in a twenty-minute parking spot and insisted on carrying my bag up to the room with me. Personally, I thought it was just an excuse to see my room._

_“Tom, thanks for everything today,” I told him after I opened the door to my hotel.” I had a lot of fun today. And I normally don’t at photo shoots.”_

_“I should be the one thanking you, seriously,” he replied with great enthusiasm. “I don’t know how I will make it up to you.”_

_“Dinner was fine, Tom. Seriously.”_

_“No, that’s not enough,” he ran his hand through his hair. “You must come to set tomorrow. We’re filming not too far from here, actually.”_

_In all honesty, that didn’t sound like much fun to me, especially since I spent six months filming a movie on a set. But I really wanted to see more of Tom. Is that weird?_

_“Sure, sounds like fun,” I smiled._

_“Great,” he wrote down the details of the shooting location and times he would be on set on the notepad by my bed. “I look forward to seeing you tomorrow.”_

_I walked him over to the door, thanking him once again for dinner, when he stopped. He turned on his heel and stared at me with that same look he had on his face earlier._

_“Kate,” he started out in a low, gravely voice. “Would it be okay if I kissed you?”_

_I was taken back. First, no guy — apart from my boyfriend in the first grade — had ever asked if he could kiss me. Second, Tom actually wants to kiss me? And third, if I kiss him, does that mean anything about our relationship?_

_I don’t remember uttering any words or really giving any positive signal, but Tom inched closer, his lips soon hovering over mine. After a couple of beats like this, I could tell Tom wanted me to meet him the rest of the way, more than likely nervous if I would respond to the kiss or not._

Why are you thinking this out right now? _The voice in my head demanded._ A gorgeous guy who is crazy about you is centimeters away from your face. Kiss. Him.

_I smiled and gently pressed my lips to his. We stayed like that for what felt like forever, our lips just on each other. There was no rushing, no urgency, no demanding. It was just perfect._

_I was the one to break the kiss, mainly since I was running out of oxygen. We just smiled at each other, pleased that the night ended even better than expected._

_“I’ll see you tomorrow, Kate,” Tom said in a low voice, breathing a little heavy. He took my hand and kissed it before walking out the door._

“Holy crap, Kate,” Britt didn’t say a word the entire time I told my story. “He’s crazy about you.”

“Well, I don’t know about that.”

“No! I’m serious,” she interrupted. “What guy in this day and age asks to kiss a girl? Obviously he cares about you.”

“I’m pretty sure he’s just that polite,” I responded. “That could be his thing, though. Be all polite, get what he wants and dumps you.”

“Do you really believe that?”

I shook my head. I didn’t even believe the words when I said them. “No. I don’t.”

There was some mumbling and laughing in the background before Britt got back on the phone. “Katie, I have to go. I have dinner plans. But please keep me updated,” she laughed in that annoying I-really-want-to-smack-you-but-your-so-right-about-everything way. Gotta love older sisters.


	15. Chapter 15

I couldn’t sleep much through the night. So instead of laying in bed, starting at the ceilings and being alone with my thoughts, I decided to get up and swim. I put my suit on before covering it with sweat pants and a fleece jacket. I packed a change of clothes in my swim bag and made sure my wallet was zipped in the bag. 

With the London Aquatics Center a few blocks down from my hotel, I decided to walk down there. Even though it was four in the morning, there was some traffic out and about, but nothing too bad. I easily walked the ten blocks to the pool, opening the door with ease and walking up to the front desk. 

“Hi,” I interrupted the guy who was at the desk. After the aquatics center was used as an Olympic venue, it went to the public and is now used as a public pool and training center. “My swim coach said he called over here and arranged some swim time for me. My name is…””

“Kate Miller!” the guy’s eyes widened and he dropped his magazine he was ready. “Of course. It’s no problem. We know you.”

I smiled at his enthusiasm. Especially since it was 4:30 a.m. “Thank you,” I wasn’t sure if I should be thanking him or not, but I didn’t know what else to say. “Is there anything I need to do?”

“No! No! It’s all taken care of,” he said. “Although, your coach said you may be willing to do a clinic? For our younger swimmers?”

“Sure, that would be fun.” I really did love working with children. “Is this afternoon okay?”

“Our intermediate class is at 4. Can you come then?”

“I’ll be here!”

I went down the hall and a short set of stairs to the deck, propping open the large door with a wedge of wood. As I walked across the blue grey tiles to the starting blocks, memories from the Games ran through my head. I stopped next to the stands where the American team sat, remembering watching my best friend Michael Phelps’ final race, tears welding in my eyes as I watched him receive his final medal. Now, he was un-retired, training to make the 2016 team. 

I finished walking to the blocks and set my stuff by lane four starting block. I took off my jacket and sweatpants, neatly folding and placing them in my bag. Before I hopped in the pool, I checked my phone and saw that Jake responded to my text. We had agreed to meet for breakfast instead of lunch. I decided to send Tom a text, letting him know I would come to set around 9 or 10. 

I put my phone away, zipping it up in a side pocket. I fit my goggles snugly against my face before taking my place on the block. I imagined the signal going off, sending me diving into the water. 

One of the reasons I wanted to swim this morning — in addition to training — was to think. I always did my best thinking when I was in the pool. Staring at the black line in the bottom of the pool does that to a person.

Of course, my thoughts went to Tom. And of course, that annoying voice in my head was dominating my thoughts. 

_Am I foolish to think he wants to spend time with me? I’m really no one special, certainly not as lavish or entertaining at the actors he works with. But we had fun together, and there was obviously a connection._

_But it wouldn’t work. He was based in London and I in Michigan. He’s on movie sets for 3-4 months at a time and I’m spending all my time either training for the Olympics or competition in meets around the world. How are you supposed to have a relationship with someone like that?_

_I can’t expect him to wait two years until the Games are over. I also don’t feel comfortable with a long distance relationship. I don’t want an open relationship either. But I don’t want to lose him at the same time._

After about half an hour of drowning in my thoughts, I stopped at the wall, holding myself up with my arms. After catching my breath, I dried off my hand and took my phone out. After a few rings, the person on the other end picked up.

“What do I do?” I asked. 

“What?” Zach mumbled through the phone. “Who is this?”

“It’s me,” I responded. “What do I do?”

“It’s one in the morning!”

“I need to know what to do,” I told my brother. “I need someone level headed.”

My brother analyzed everything, dissecting both sides before reaching an answer. That’s why he was going to be a great doctor. He was in medical school at Harvard University. Oh yeah, did I mention he’s also a genius? 

“I really like Tom, but I don’t think it’s going to work out,” I told him. “I need you to tell me what to do.”

“I’m not telling you what to do,” he responded. “I can’t tell you who to love or not.”

Well, that was not what I wanted to hear.

“But I can tell you that Tom is a great guy. And I bet he has similar fears, too,” he added. “I’m sure if you two dated he wouldn’t like being away from you.”

“Long distance relationship stuff doesn’t really work for me, you know that.”

“I think you and Tom can work that out. I think you both know what you want out of your relationship and will do whatever it takes to make it work.”

He was right. My brother was right. “Thanks, Zach. Sorry to bother you.”

“No problem,” he yawned. “I’ve always got time for a sister meltdown. Just remember that when we’re in France and I want you to buy me a yacht.”

After I hung up from my brother, I noticed a text message. It was from Tom. 

_My day won’t start until I see your smiling face._

I couldn’t help but smile at his text message. Yeah, I could see myself with him.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another filler chapter...sorry. I promise the next chapter will be great!
> 
> Also, if you're interested, check out my other Tom Hiddleston story, Rainbow in the Dark: http://archiveofourown.org/works/1727810/chapters/3684122

After stopping back at my hotel to drop my bag off, I met Jake for breakfast at his favorite restaurant, Regency Café. Since I just got done swimming, I was starving. I ordered bacon, sausage links, toast, a pancake and two poached eggs. Jake just had toast, an egg and tea.

 

“You should be a professional competitive eater,” he told me. “You could put a lot of people to shame.”

I smiled and finished off my last sausage link. “If I recall, I can out drink you, too.”

“You don’t ever need to recall that again.”

Throughout breakfast we mainly talked about Jake and his job. After high school, he took off and traveled around Europe, partying wherever he found a good place to be. Now that he returned home a couple years ago, he was working at a children’s center for at risk youth. While my cousin was a very free spirit, he cared a lot for the kids he looked after.

“I decided I want to work for kids more, so I think I’m going to go back to school and get a children’s psychology degree,” he told me as he finished his toast. “There’s a lot of kids who are being overlooked. I felt like that when I was growing up and I don’t want anyone else to feel that way.”

“Jake, I think that’s great,” I told him. “You’re so great to those kids.”

“What are you going to do after swimming?”

I shook my head. That truly was the million-dollar question. “I don’t really know. I always say I would like to work for the U.N., but I don’t know if that’s a perfect fit for me.”

“Yeah, I don’t see you sitting in an office for very long,” Jake added. “Why don’t you join the family business? You were already in the Hunger Games movies. Why not something else?”

I crinkled my nose in disgust. “I don’t know. It was fun. But I’m not sure I belong in that world either.”

“You’ll find your place,” Jake reassured me. “For now, it’s spending all your free time with me.”

After we finished our breakfast, I snatched the bill from Jake and handed the waiter my cash.

“I was going to pay for that,” he glared.

“You gotta be quick around me, dear cousin,” I laughed. “But you can do me a favor. Can you drop me off somewhere on your way to work?” I told him the directions to the movie lot where Tom was filming.

“That’s a filming location,” Jake stopped talking and studied my face. “Britt is in New York City and your grandfather is in Italy. Who are you going to see?”

“Why do you know where my grandpa is?”

“Don’t change the subject,” Jake waved his finger at me. “Who are you seeing, Katherine Jane Miller?”

I huffed out a breath. There was no getting out of this. Sometimes it was like another brother. “Tom, okay. I am spending my afternoon with Tom.”

A wide smile spread across his face. He started laughing, only getting louder and louder with each laugh. “Oh man, I was so right.”

“Right about what?”

“I knew there was something you liked about him. I could see it in your eyes,” he said.

“It’s nothing serious. We’re just hanging out.”

“Hey, that’s fine. Take it slow, that’s great,” Jake got up from his seat and helped me put on my coat before putting on his own. “Just make sure I get an invite to the wedding.”

I smacked his arm with my hand, laughing along with him.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this has taken so long to get posted! I hope we can still be friends ;) 
> 
> Also, when I wrote this chapter weeks ago, I was unfamiliar that filming for High Rise would be in N. Ireland. Well, in this world it's in London — it just works better with my story! (And I have also never read the story...shhh! It's on my list of to-dos!)
> 
> Enjoy!

I got to set a few minutes after 9 a.m. Tom was filming “High Rise,” based on the book of the same name, on location in a luxury hotel. A couple of crewmembers scurried by, holding hanging clothes bags and props, chattering away. I was busy surveying the scene when Tom came up to me. 

“Kate,” he called, breaking me from watching a director’s assistant lug a camera into the building. “You made it.” He gave me a kiss on the cheek, pulling away with a smile. 

I’m not going to lie, I felt a bit shy. The next meeting after the first kiss is always awkward in my book. Do I initiate the next one? Does he regret kissing me in the first place?

“I’m excited to see you film,” I told him. It was true. I was looking forward to seeing him deliver his lines and act as the uptight character he is portraying from the book.

“We’re on a short break now. Want to see the set?”

I nodded my head and Tom took my hand, lacing his fingers through mine. He took me into the complex, which included apartments, high-speed elevators and a large swimming pool. 

“In the book there is a school and supermarket in the building, but those will be filmed elsewhere and added in to look like they are in the same complex,” Tom told me as we walked down one of the halls. Even thought the book was set in the 70s, the movie was updated for the modern era, noted by the modern three-piece suit Tom was wearing. 

We walked to the next floor, where Tom’s character’s apartment was, stepping over pieces of rubble that lay in the hall. 

“We just started the scenes were violence breaks out and the tenants abandon their social restraints,” Tom told me as I stepped over a rather larger piece of concrete. Tom held my hand a bit tighter, guiding me along the hall. “Since this is an actual apartment building, any holes or missing wall pieces will be CGI-ed in.”

“This is cool,” I told him. Tom opened the door to his apartment room, which was decked out in whites, reds and blacks and had a killer view of London. “So, why did you want to take this role?”

I followed Tom through the apartment as he spoke. “I was intrigued by the social breakdown and total abandonment of class, morals and etiquette,” he said. “I mean, we all want to belong somewhere and when class structure is broken down, are you going to fight for where you want to be or where you should be?”

It was an interesting way to pick a role, nonetheless. 

“Really, I believe everybody deserve a fair shot and should be treated as equals. No one is better or less than anybody else,” he said. Once we were in the bedroom in front of the wall of windows, Tom turned to me a smiled. “But sometimes, it’s fun to play a guy who is conflicted and doesn’t really believe that.”

“Well, you are British after all.”

We both laughed. Tom walked over to me, taking both my hands in his. He smiled at me for a couple seconds before walking over to the windows, his hand still laced with mine.

“I’ve lived in London my whole life and never get tired of looking at it,” he said. “If only I had this view.”

I looked up to him and smiled. “Is there really a bad view of London?” 

Tom returned my smile and pointed to a nearby park. “My mum used to take me and my sisters there when we were younger. And then we would get ice cream over there. It’s a vegan restaurant now.”

“Ironic.”

“Things always change in this town,” Tom solemnly said. “There’s really nothing left of my childhood, apart from a couple of stores and a park. That’s a shame to see.”

“Yeah, I bet,” I said. “Nothing ever changes in my town. I’m still little Katie Miller, even though I’m 27 years old.”

Tom laughed, turning to me and relaxing his body against the window. I copied his stance, letting him once again grab both of my hands into his. He ran his thumbs over my knuckles as we talked, my shyness immediately dissipating.

“What is your hometown like?”

“Very small. We have two stoplights. And one of them flashes,” I told Tom as he laughed. “It’s just a very small farming community. There are about 800 people there, but it feels much smaller. But everyone’s pretty nice. A little small minded, but nice people.” 

“I’d love to see your home sometime,” Tom said, stepping a bit closer to me. _Really? We’re already talking about a visit home?_ Tom didn’t wait for my response, nor did he really need one. Instead, his lips sealed over mine in a sweet kiss. His lips were thinner than mine, but they were soft. My eyes fluttered shut, like I was in a wonderful dream.

His right hand found my waist as his left cradled my neck. His touch was soft, but purposeful. I don’t know how long we were there kissing, talking and holding hands. It was nice and for the first time in my life, I didn’t feel any pressure on myself to fulfill any “relationship rule.” Tom was a gentleman and a true class act.

Tom was in the middle of talking about another favorite childhood spot when a throat clearing noise was voiced behind us. We both looked to the sound, finding a bigger man who was not as tall as Tom, but had just as much presence.

“We’re ready to start filming the altercation,” he said, giving me a once over. 

“Ben, this is Kate. Kate, this is the film’s director, Ben Wheatley,” he stretched out his hand and I accepted, exchanging our hellos.

The two men talked about the scene and the emotion behind it as we walked down the stairs to a lower level. Tom held my hand, guiding me over the rubble once again. I would listen in here and there, but my mind was mostly thinking about our alone time in the apartment. I could still feel his lips over mine. 

Tom took his spot against a couple of other actors as I took mine behind the camera, still in view of the ongoing scene, but enough out of the way so I wouldn’t be a distraction. Being a relative in a family of actors, this wasn’t my first time on a movie set, so I knew how to act. 

Tom quickly glanced over a sheet of lines before giving it back to an assistant. Ben called silence before calling action, prompting Tom and the two actors to deliver their lines. 

The scene was about Tom encouraging the two lower class people to remain in their structure, which benefits society. Tom was right, his character was kind of conflicted and he was kind of a jerk. The did a couple more takes of the scene, each one getting better than the next, before Ben called it good.

“Great work, Tom,” he said. “Let’s set up for the overtaking scene. Can we have it set up in fifteen?”

The crew scurried into the building and up the stairs. Makeup came over to Tom and started to apply some red to his forehead. Blood. 

I was watching from a distance, not sure if I could go into the building, when Ben came over to me.

“You know, Tom was struggling with that scene in rehearsals, but he nailed it in three takes,” he said to me. “I think you may be his lucky charm.”

“I don’t know about that,” I smiled. “He’s a pretty great actor.”

After feeling awkward standing by myself, I walked over to where Tom was. The makeup artist was about done filling in the bloody spot. 

“So are you winning this fight or losing?” I asked him. 

“You’ll just have to stick around and see,” he grinned. 

The make up artist applied a few more spots of blood, giving him a bloody nose and flicking the red stuff on his shirt. She turned to me and handed me the brush. 

“Want to give him a wound?” she asked.

“Sure!” I eagerly took the brush and was about to smear the blood on Tom when his hands wrapped around my wrists and held me back.

“You answered way too quickly,” he flashed a wide smile.

“I’ll be good, I promise.”

Shelly, the make up artist, guided me as to where to put the brush and to what type of strokes I should make. The wound would be just under his ear, like he was thrown against a wall, causing his ear to rupture. 

I leaned into Tom, my knees bent a little bit to match my body his sitting height. Tom’s hands were on my waist, securely holding me in the position. He would flinch every once in a while, his skin breaking out in goose bumps. 

“Sorry,” he apologized each time. “I’m ticklish there.”

I chuckled. “Good, now I have ammunition.” His skin broke out in the bumps once more, this time since my breath hit his ear. 

“Don’t tease me,” he whispered, his hands shifting just a few inches down. We exchanged a glance before I went back to work. God, I wanted to kiss him more. 

I bit my lower lip, trying to keep myself from saying something else in response, and finished the wound. Shelly took the brush from me and put it back in her pack. She took out a larger, fluffier brush and some translucent powder, which would set the wound. 

“Ready to go,” Shelly told Ben as he walked up to us. 

While it was a smaller set up at Tom’s apartment, Ben still allowed me to come up to watch. The scene was pretty intense — Tom fighting with a handful of tenants who were trying to overtake his posh apartment. At this point in the film, the social classes were pretty much extinct. 

The scene took longer to film than the one before, with most of the afternoon devoted to it. After the tenants broke down the door, they entered Tom’s apartment and began to fight. Tom was able to break away, taking the fight to the next level, where other high-class people were taking safety. 

Ben called another break as the next scene was set up. Tom had his make up wiped off before a fresh layer was re-applied. I was about to go over and wrangle myself into helping once more when my phone vibrated against my thigh. I took it out and saw it was my cousin.

“Hey, Jake,” I said. 

“How many times have you made out with Tom?” he said instead of a greeting.

I rolled my eyes. “That is none of your businesses.”

He laughed and conceded. “Thought I would let you know I am out of work early. I thought I would take you to the pool for your swim clinic. I actually have a couple of kids who are in that class and they asked me to watch.”

Shoot. I had forgotten all about the clinic. That’s not like me. 

“Yeah, I’m ready whenever you get here. Just send me a text and I will come and find you.”

He hung up and I went to find Tom. Another make up department worker was fussing with his hair, making his waves look disarrayed. 

“So, are you winning this fight?” I asked him. 

Tom looked up to me and smiled. “Are you going to stick around and see?”

“I actually have a swim clinic to get to,” I watched as his face fell and I instantly felt bad. I’m sure he had other plans for us in mind, but they were quickly destroyed. “It’s at the Aquatics Center in an hour. It shouldn’t run longer than a couple hours, if you want to do something after.”

Tom’s smile came back. “Yeah, sure. I’ll call you when I am done on set.”

“Okay,” I nodded my head. I was about to walk away, when I stopped myself. I took the couple of steps over to him and kissed him. He smiled against my mouth and kissed me back. I went to break away from this kiss, but he captured my lips with his once more. We held our positions for a couple more seconds before I broke away, more firmly this time. 

“I’ll see you later, then?” I asked him. 

I could tell Tom was trying to play cool, but he was failing. His smile was pretty big. “Yeah, I’ll see you later.”


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thanks for reading!!

There were about 35 kids in the swim clinic, which was much larger than I was used to. Normally, if I was on my own, I would have about 12-15. When I had this many kids, a couple other swimmers usually joined me. But it was okay. Jake was helping me by quieting the kids down, since he saw a half of them at the children’s center he worked at. There were also a couple of staff members who were fairly decent swimmers helping me out.

Once we got them all sitting down in a couple rows of bleachers, I spoke to them from below the deck, happily taking any questions they had for me. 

“What were your favorite Olympics to swim in? What is your favorite event to swim in? What was your best race ever? What is your favorite medal? What do you like about being a swimmer?”

And my endless responses: A tie between London, Athens and Beijing, the 200 freestyle, my 200 freestyle race in 2004 (which is also my favorite gold medal), I like to be in the water.

After a 30-minute question and answer session, I broke the kids up in groups of three. I would spend 20 minutes with each group, teaching them how to properly position their arms when swimming freestyle and pushing off against the wall. Everybody, including myself, already had suits on. I wore my simple purple one-piece training suit.

Five minutes into working with my second group, I saw a familiar body walk onto the pool deck, dressed in black dress pants a thin white top and the same black zip sweater he wore to my photo shoot two days ago. I didn’t expect Tom to come to the pool. I was somewhat nervous, yet excited, about the fact that he was here.

All of the kids jumped in the pool at once, creating a wall of water shooting up from the pool. I laughed and took my place at the side of the pool as Tom walked over to me.

“Want to join them?” I teased. 

Tom chuckled and gave my shoulder a squeeze. “Only if you can teach me how to win a gold medal.”

I went back to the group of kids and proceeded to show them how to hold their arms up and out of the water. After a few laps with the technique, I got in the pool with them and explained how push off from the wall after a flip turn, which the kids were starting to learn. 

“The more power you put in your kick off will help with maintaining your speed and getting an edge over your competitors,” I told the group. “Now, shall we race?”

They all screamed yes and took their spots against the wall, pushing off as I counted down to “one.” We all raced to the other end of the pool. I was thankful there were no lane lines attached, as that would have been a chaotic mess to deal with. 

Once the kids got out of the pool and went off to the locker room, I pulled myself up out of the water and grabbed my towel, which was a little damp from previous use. The kids in the third and final group, all of which Jake knew, were busy putting on their swim caps. While pool staff members were helping them put on the caps, I walked over to Tom who was watching everything with a smile.

“You’re really good with the kids,” he told me, running his hands up and down my arms, which were covered with my towel. 

“They’re fun,” I told him. “It’s even more fun when I get to talk about what I love doing.”

“Mr. Jake! Are you going to swim with us?” “Yeah, Mr. Jake!” I head the kids call to my cousin. He looked at me for support and I decided to get him back for all the teasing he had put me through about Tom.

“Yeah, Mr. Jake,” I whined. “Will you get in the pool, too?”

“It just so happens, I have my swim trunks on,” he conceded, causing all the kids to cheer. I laughed and watched my cousin strip down to his suit and jump in the pool. 

“This is our last group, then we can go,” I told Tom. 

“No worries, I’m having fun watching.”

I went over to the kids and gave them the same talk I gave the other two groups. We got in the water and practiced the strokes, in addition to racing and playing around in the water. The aquatics center staff called us out of the pool in order to have time for photos and autographs. I took off my swim cap, trying to dry the damp pieces of hair with my towel and noticed Jake talking to Tom. 

_Oh shit._

I walked over to the two and grabbed my black and pink Adidas warm up pants and jacket — which were custom made for me, I might add. “I take it you two have met?”

“Kate, were you keeping me from Tom?” Jake teased. He was really asking for it. “That’s not very polite.”

“I would have introduced you, but you were busy pretending you were a dolphin.”

Jake shot me a look as Tom laughed. “I was complimenting your cousin on his cannonball skills. I was wondering if it runs in the family.”

“He wishes. Mine are way better.”

Jake excused himself from our chat in order to help get the kids in a line for photos and autographs. All of the kids held their swim caps in their hands, excited to have me sign them. 

“Want to come sit by me?” I asked Tom, taking his hand in mine. He smiled and kissed it, following me to the table that was set up at the other end of the deck, which was much drier than the side we were on. 

I sat at the very end of the table, allowing the kids to come up to me for a photo. Even though there were only 35 kids, it felt like 50. While I was signing autographs, every kid asked me another question, some about swimming and others more personal, like my favorite animal or color. (Penguins and yellow, if you were wondering.)

Parents were beginning to come down on the deck to watch their children interact with me. While I liked this part of my job, I did sometimes feel like a sideshow freak that people point and stare at. 

After the last young swimmer had his autograph, a photo and even a high five from Tom, he ran over to his parents to show off his swim cap. 

“This was fun to watch,” Tom told me. “How often do you do a clinic?”

“Not very often. Maybe one or two a year,” I smiled as the kids ran around talking about what they learned. “They’re fun though. The kids are so sweet.”

Tom looked around the aquatics center and marveled at how large it was. “I saw it on the telly, but it’s much larger in person.”

“Yeah. I got lost in the halls when we had to walk out for our races,” I laughed at the memory. “It was like a maze.”

Tom and my hands were laced together as we sat and talked about the pool and the Olympics. He pointed to the far wall, which decorated with flags from around the world and a sign, noting that this was the site for the 2012 Summer Games. The flags represented the countries that earned a medal in the Games with names of the winners underneath. Tom got up to get a better look, pulling me with him. 

“There’s your name,” he pointed up to my name in raised black lettering. It had four dots behind my name, signaling how many medals I won. “Let me guess, a gold in the 200 and 400 freestyle, silver in 800 and gold in the 4x200 relay?”

I looked at Tom, shocked. “How did you know that?”

“I take an interest in the girl I am seeing,” he smoothly delivered. “And like I said yesterday, I Googled you the minute after I left the Tonight Show lot.”

I smiled and squeezed his hand. “They had a podium set up here for our medal ceremony.” I pointed to the spot underneath the list of names. “And over here is where Team USA sat and across the way is where Great Britain sat.”

Tom and I were the only ones left on the pool deck, walking hand in hand across the tiles. 

“So in this center, where is your most favorite spot?” 

I paused and looked around the pool. I spent a lot of time here during the weeklong swimming events, but I had one great memory of my time there. I led Tom over to the main competition pool, stopping in front of lane four — the fastest lane a swimmer could be in. 

“The 200 freestyle is my favorite race,” I told him, looking into his eyes before looking down at the spot. “Right in this spot, on July 31, I won my fifth individual gold medal in my favorite race. With that win, I was the first person — man or woman — to win the same event back to back three Olympics in a row. That is one of the greatest accomplishments in my life.”

Tom stared at the spot before looking back at me, speaking in a low voice. “You’re quite remarkable, Kate.” He cradled his hand against the side of my face, just as he had earlier today, and ran his thumb softly over my cheek. I leaned into the touch, feeling safe and protected. 

Wanting to make my memories of that spot even better, I leaned up to Tom and kissed him. He happily returned the affection, sliding his hand down to my neck as his other one rested on my waist. It was the perfect kiss for a perfect memory.

Tom broke away first, resting his forehead against mine. I didn’t want to open my eyes yet, still feeling his lips ghosting over mine. 

“What’s your second favorite memory?”

“This one,” I breathlessly laughed. Tom laughed, too, before placing another kiss on my lips. I wanted more and more, but I stopped myself. I couldn’t have a full on make out session in the middle of a former Olympic venue. Not classy, Kate. I pulled myself out of the kiss, keeping my lips near Tom’s. “Let me change. Then we can go.”

He licked his lips and agreed, reluctantly letting go of my hand. I grabbed my bag and walked over to the hall for the locker rooms. I propped open the door and called back to Tom. 

“If I’m not out in ten minutes, come look for me,” I shouted. “I may be lost.”


	19. Chapter 19

I had been in London for four days now and I spent every one of them with Tom. After the swim clinic, he took me to the Eye of London, since I told him I never got the chance to ride it during the Olympics. Yesterday, Tom had the afternoon off from filming, so we went to lunch and walked around Hyde Park before catching an early evening movie. And today would be no different.

Wimbledon officially kicked off today, with Andy opening the tournament in the first match. Since Adidas was kicking off our athlete campaign soon, they were getting the word out by having each of the athletes involved in the campaign host a day at Wimbledon. Today was my day.

I was at the All England Club earlier than the spectators, helping set up with Adidas’ designers. On the back wall of the rented out room were photos of myself, including the photos from the photo shoot a couple of days ago. While I was embarrassed by the ostentatious display of me, I had to admit, the photos looked really good. 

“Girl, you look fierce,” Donovan whispered in my ear as he walked behind me.

I looked over to him and smiled. “Yeah, the photos look amazing.”

“I was talking about now, honey,” he shot back. He took my hand and spun me around. “Look at you, little Miss. I’m in love.”

Really, I didn’t think my outfit was that great. And I honestly didn’t know what to wear to Wimbledon, so I took to Pinterest. And asked Leo. The end result — white skinny jeans, a three quarter sleeve simple black top that swept across my shoulders and black flats. I straightened my hair after I went for a swim, hoping it didn’t smell too much like chlorine. 

“If I could add one thing,” Donovan let go of my hand and went to his bag, pulling out a large turquoise statement necklace. 

“Do you always have stuff like that in your bag?” I asked, remembering how he pulled out three different types of brushes at the photo shoot and two large bottles of hair styling products.

“Child, I’m your fairy godmother.”

I laughed as he clasped the necklace before putting it in place. I had to admit, it did look good. Donovan and I finished setting up the display before raiding the snacks in the corner. Soon the media would start coming in one by one to ask a few questions about the campaign and my new swimwear line, for which there would be a celebratory party held tonight for its official release tomorrow morning. 

As I was talking to The Sun newspaper, Leo walked into the room, taking off his shades and resting them on his shirt. He hovered by us, smirking as I answered the questions.

“What do you hope this campaign shows viewers?” the reporter asked, with his tape recorder in my face. 

“I hope it shows viewers how much fun we have doing what we do and that we’re not robots programmed to win,” I said with a smile, trying not to laugh as Leo made a face behind the reporter. “I also hopes more kids are inspired to take up swimming, or tennis or running by watching myself and the other athletes.”

“And Mr. DiCaprio,” the reporter turned around, causing Leo to stop his mimicking. “I am aware you are a good friend of the Miller family, as well a sports lover. Care to share your comments on the campaign?”

“I think it’s a great way to showcase the talent these athletes have and how they prepare,” Leo answered, fixing his stance so he was by my side. “You know, I think of Kate as a little sister, so I support anything that shows off her talent and dedication to swimming.”

“Thanks for your time,” the reporter said before leaving. Soon after he left, another reporter would be in, then another and another. 

I gave Leo a hug and thanked him for coming. “I don’t know if I will be able to watch any of the matches if they keep bringing these reporters in,” I mumbled.

“All part of the job, I suppose.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

I told Leo he could watch the matches from the inside of the rented out box or down below in the seats they had reserved for VIPs. Richard, one of the higher ups at Adidas, had invited a set number of people, but each athlete in the campaign was allowed to invite three people each. My first choice was Leo, since he loved the sport just as much as he loved women, then Jake, since I hardly ever got to see him. My third one went to Tom, which might have been due to Leo’s prodding, but I think I would have ended up inviting him anyway.

Another reporter from The Daily Mail walked into the room, armed with a camera and notepad. I took in a deep breath and smiled, greeting him with a firm handshake. For once, I just wish I could speak to a woman reporter. Sometimes, men just didn’t get it. 

Leo left me to do my interview in peace, hitting up the food table and tiny bar. He talked with a couple of people before going out to the outside seating area through the door by the bar. It was quite a set up Adidas had and I was happy to be participating in it. 

While I was in the middle with an interview with L’Equipe magazine, a French publication that concentrated on sports, Tom walked in, suddenly bringing a ray of sunshine to the room. Jake was trailing behind him, the two men laughing at whatever it was they were saying. Tom looked really good. He was wearing black slacks and a white dress shirt with a black sports coat to match. Since it was windy out, his hair was a bit out of place, which made him look that much more attractive. I wanted to watch him more, but I had to focus on the interview, especially since I was giving it in French. 

“What do you think about tennis?” the female — yes! — reporter asked me in her native tongue.

“It is a beautiful sport, but unfortunately, I am terrible at it,” I responded with a laugh, hoping I used the right verbiage. “I hope Andy can teach me some useful skills during our campaign.”

Both Jake and Tom stopped what they were doing to watch my interview, my nerves suddenly getting the best of me.

“I understand that you will swim in Rio, but what are your plans after?” the reporter asked. It seemed that I was getting more and more questions about my future. And it was getting annoying. 

“I really want to focus on what I am doing now,” I tried to respond without sounding irritated. She was only doing her job, after all. “I want to take it step by step. After the Games in Rio, I’ll evaluate where I am and what I want to do.”

“Merci, Kate.”

After taking a few photos, the reporter was on her way to the matches. Jake had already abandoned Tom, favoring the food table, leaving Tom to myself.

“An interview in French? Vous êtes très talentueux,” he said, causing my eyes to widen when he spoke French. You are very talented. He also placed a simple kiss to my cheek before taking a step back. He stood close, but not too close to me, more than likely not wanting to give a reason for the press to write stories. There were still a few reporters milling around the room, afterall.

“Years and years of my grandmother teaching me,” I laughed. “She tried with my brother, but that was a lost cause.”

“Honey, you just have to do one more phone interview,” Donovan interrupted us, not noticing I was talking to Tom at first. Once he noticed, his eyes went big before returning to their normal size. “Richard has the magazine on the phone.”

“Excuse me, Tom,” I apologized. “This should be my last one.”

“No need to apologize.”

I went over to the corner of the room where it was a bit quieter for my interview with Swimming World Magazine, which was hands down my most favorite media outlet to speak with. From the beginning they were supportive of me, which was hard to find in the media. 

The editor and I started out the interview by just talking about my trip in London and the debut of my swim line. Then we delved into the actual interview, about the athlete campaign, my swimwear line and my preparations for the upcoming Nationals swimming meet. While it was the longest interview I had, at a whopping 45 minutes, it was the best one. I felt so at ease with the staff at the magazine. 

After I finished the interview, I went over to re-join my guests, finding Tom at the display. _How long has he been there staring….at me?_

“I’m all finished,” I said, getting his attention by resting my hand on his forearm.

“I was just looking at your photos,” Tom cleared his throat, shifting his arm so it allowed him to grab my hand, giving it a squeeze. “They’re very…stimulating.”

_Stimulating? So they turn you on?_ I wanted to ask him. But I reserved myself. “Uh, thanks.”

“Jake told me you’re having a party tonight for your swimwear release,” Tom casually mentioned. I wondered if he was fishing for an invite. Honestly, I didn’t think he would enjoy it, but then again, what guy doesn’t like girls in bikinis? 

“Yeah, it’s at The Ivy. It’s at eight,” I responded, trying not to sound desperate to invite him. “Would you like to attend? I wasn’t sure if you would be interested in attending, otherwise I would have invited you a long time ago. It’ll just be some boring speeches and photos. No big deal, really.” I was rambling. Stop it, Kate. Stop. It. 

Tom chuckled, brushing off my apology. “I would love to attend,” he tucked my hand under his arm and guided us over to the bar, his face close to mine. “Any time I spend with you is time well spent.”

I pushed back the hair from my face, trying to hide the fact that I was blushing. I wasn’t used to a guy saying so many sweet, nice things. But Tom broke the mold.

Tom ordered us drinks and we talked while they were being made. I was laughing as Tom told me a hilarious incident that happened on set earlier this morning when Donovan interrupted. 

“Richard put me on photography duty,” he said, giving a sly smile that only I picked up on. “Possibly to use for the campaign. Can I get a picture of you two?”

I wasn’t sure how Tom would react to the photo op, since he distanced himself while I was giving interviews to the press, which was fine. Instead of expecting him to do the same thing, Tom did the exact opposite. He wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him. I mirrored his image, sliding my hand across his lower back and finding a resting spot just under his rib cage. Donovan snapped a couple of photos, giving me the chance to inhale Tom’s scent — that familiar intoxicating mixture of sandalwood, amber and a hint of lavender. I felt his thumb caress the bit of skin that was exposed on my hip.

After Donovan left us to take more photos, Tom took our drinks and we went outside to join Jake and Leo. I took my seat between Tom and Jake, taking a sip of the gin-based drink Tom ordered. 

“What’s happening?” I asked, squinting my eyes to shield the sun. 

“Andy’s serving great,” Leo offered. “He’s up now. I think he’s got it.”

“When is Andy’s day to host the athlete party?” Jake asked me. “Can I come that day?”

“Next week, I think. Why, are you not having fun at my party?” Jake rolled his eyes. “You can’t have more fun at his party.”

“Is that the first rule of girl code?”

I playfully smacked his arm as Tom chuckled at our banter. I went back to watching the match, Andy took the first set 6-4 and was up in the second, going back and forth against his opponent from Germany. While I didn’t know much about tennis, it was an intense match up. 

Since there were photographers with long lenses down below — even though I doubt they were shooting celebrities in the crowd — I kept my distance from Tom. He, however, did not keep distance from me. While he was focused on the game, he would run his fingers across the back of my hand, which was resting on the armrest between us. A couple times he pressed his leg up against mine and even had his arm on the back of my seat for the entire second set. 

During one of the breaks, Tom leaned in to talk to me after I asked him to finish his story from earlier. His laugh was like a song that could only make me smile and his breath was laced with gin and peppermint. I didn’t realize Tom and I were sitting so close until a voice broke us apart.

“Katie, can we see you for a moment?” Donovan interrupted. 

I excused myself from Tom once again and stepped over his legs to reach the aisle. I shot Donovan a dirty look while he gave me a sympathetic smile. 

“We need you to live tweet part of the event for the campaign,” Donovan said. I joined him and Tate, Adidas’ marketing director, at the table with the computer and began answering some questions and tweeting my thoughts about the match. 

I laughed at some of the questions I was getting: Who would win a battle in the Hunger Games — Andy or myself? Me, for sure. If I played tennis, what would my nickname be? Kate the Acer. Who’s better looking in a skintight racing suit — Michael Phelps or Ryan Lochte? Trick question — Michael Phelps’ mustache. 

The live tweeting session ran for about 20 minutes, all through Andy’s final set, which he won, advancing in the tournament. I was about to sign off from the session when I noticed I had a message through my personal Twitter account. I clicked on it and saw it was from Tom. I stared at his Twitter icon for a few seconds before clicking on the message. 

_I have a question. Will you be my date to Evian’s Wimbledon event tomorrow night?_

I smirked and looked over my shoulder, making sure no one was involved in our personal conversation before I replied. 

_Only if we get free water. ;)_


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, so, so so (a million times so!) sorry about how long this update has taken to get up. I have been so busy with work this month, on top of being sick. Literally, I was sick the whole month of August — did you know you can get pneumonia in the summer? 'Cos you can!!! 
> 
> Anyways, thanks for sticking in there! Leave a comment on your way out, if you can! ;)
> 
> (Also, in case you're interested, here's the dress; It's probably my favorite in the entire story!) http://www.pinterest.com/pin/121386152431990782/

My fingers shook uncontrollably as tucked a piece of hair back into its pin. I gave myself a once over in the mirror before forcing a smile on my face. It was going to be a long night already. It would be even longer if I had a sour face.

My day had started really well, but in the blink of an eye — or rather a flash of a camera — it went downhill really fast. 

_After the end of Andy’s match, the group of us stayed to watch the next two players face off. It was nice to sit there with family and friends, talking about the game or sport-related stories. Leo had us all laughing when he retold the story about his tennis lessons as a child._

_The afternoon came to an end after the second match, forcing us to leave the arena shortly after the spectators were gone. Jake had to leave shortly after the second set began, leaving Tom, Leo and I to walk out together._

_We were laughing about something, about to exit the arena when I heard the chatter. The two men continued to talk as I became more familiar with what the noise was. Paparazzi. As soon as we turned the corner, I saw them and their flashes going off, causing my heart to beat faster and faster._

_While there couldn’t have been more than a dozen, it felt like one hundred. Their cameras set on me, their voices calling my name. I didn’t realize I stopped walking until Tom was giving me a funny look and tugging on my hand. I quickly released his hand and shook my head._

_“I j-just remembered,” I rattled out barely above a whisper. “I think I left my phone up in the box. I have to go get it.”_

_“I’ll come with you,” he offered,_

_“No!” I voiced a little bit louder than I intended. I just had to get out of there before I had a full-blown panic attack. “I’ll just run up. No big deal. I’ll see you later tonight, right?”_

_He gave me a weird look, almost like I grew two heads. “Yeah, see you tonight.”_

_I practically ran from the scene, not stopping until I heard nothing but silence. I was now on the courts of the arena, abandoned by the spectators, players and coaches. It was just me and that’s just how I wanted it._

_“Breathe, Kate,” I heard Leo say. I didn’t even know he followed me, let alone took the seat next to me. He rubbed the back of my shoulders with one hand, trying to get me to focus on my breathing. Apart from my parents and siblings, Leo was the only other person who knew my anxiety towards the media. “Just take some deep breaths.”_

_“God, you’d think I’d be over this by now,” I mumbled, lifting my head from my hands and giving a weak smile. “So embarrassing.”_

_“No it’s not,” he said. “You have no reason to be embarrassed.”_

_We sat there in silence for a few more minutes before getting up to leave. Leo had his arm protectively wrapped around my shoulders as we walked down the opposite tunnel from where the paparazzi were camped out. It was good to have a big brother, even if he wasn’t a brother by blood._

I finished tucking the stray pieces of my hair back in place and left the bathroom in back of The Ivy. Adidas rented out the entire restaurant for the release of my swimsuit line. The actual fashion show would be in a couple weeks in New York City, so this was just a celebratory reception. 

Donovan was by the door, waiting for me with a couple of shots. I gave him a relieved smile and downed the tequila shot, brushing away his hand that held the lime. “I figured you could use some liquid encouragement.”

“Yeah, I can, thanks,” I put the empty glass on a nearby counter. A waiter would be by to pick it up. “Not too much more or I will be on the table tops dancing.” I took the second shot he had in his hand, which I assume was for him. “Maybe just one more.”

Donovan laughed. He looked really handsome in his black pants and shirt combo with red suspenders and matching Adidas shoes. He did my make up after I left the Wimbledon arena, but I insisted on doing my hair myself. I told him about the incident earlier and said doing my own hair would calm me by giving me a task to focus on. I just did a simple braided up do, nothing too fancy. 

“Will you walk the red carpet with me?” I asked him.

“Of course, doll,” he dramatically struck a pose and framed his face with his hands. “I am ready for my close up.”

I laughed and threaded my arm through his, making our way to the red carpet. While there were paparazzi camped outside the restaurant, there was a barrier keeping them ten feet away, as well as bouncers keeping them in line. I felt safe, but was still uncomfortable having my name called and image captured. 

Donovan held my hand tight as we posed for pictures. The liquid encouragement he gave me earlier started to take affect, my fears dwindling just a little. I began to smile more and strike a few poses, laughing as Donovan went over the top.

While we were at the end of the red carpet, I saw Tom’s familiar figure at the beginning, stopping for some photos. After a few shots, he noticed me at the other end and smiled. He looked somewhat similar to how he did earlier, except he wore a suit jacket with two buttons, which he constantly kept buttoning and unbuttoning. 

Tom was making his way down to me and I was oblivious to where I was, until I felt the flash of the camera in my face. The flash immediately sobered me. I let go of Donovan’s hand and went back inside, not bothering to wait for Tom. I grabbed a glass of champagne as a waiter passed by, immediately downing it in one gulp. I wasn’t particularly fond of champagne, as it was fairly dry, but it did its job at this moment. 

I took a couple of deep breaths and was able to regain control before Tom walked in. 

“Kate,” he called after me. “Why’d you take off like that?”

I tried to put on a sincere smile, hoping I didn’t come off as fake. “I thought someone was calling my name in here, sorry.” He held his arms out to me and I stepped in them, resting my hands on his forearms and pressing a quick kiss to his lips. 

“I was going to tell you how absolutely beautiful you look tonight,” Tom offered, pulling me closer to him. While we were near the entrance of the restaurant, we were tucked away in a corner with Tom’s frame hiding mine from the crowd. I felt like I was in my own private world. 

Tom kept running his hand up and down my back, no doubt liking the texture of my dress. The base of the long sleeve dress was black velvet and ended mid thigh. There were over 10,000 Swarovski crystals and pearls adorned on the dress, creating lines, swirls and a matching pattern on both the back and front of the dress. I got the dress while I was in France, mainly since I knew I couldn’t live without it. Now I finally had a reason to wear it.

“I’m at a table up front,” I said to him, his thumbs on my hips and his fingers fanning over my lower back, just above my butt. “I saved you a seat.”

Tom smiled and turned, offering his arm to me. I directed him to the table and he pulled my chair out for me. Donovan soon joined us, giving me the chance to officially introduce the two men. 

People were still filing into the restaurant, giving Tom and I the chance to talk before the evening kicked off. A waiter stopped by, depositing two flutes of champagne on the table. I took my time drinking this one.

“So, does Luke know you’re here without him?” I teased.

“He doesn’t,” Tom whispered, holding up a finger to his lips. “Don’t tell anybody. I can’t get into any trouble tonight.”

I smirked. “Well, darn. How are we supposed to have fun, then?”

“You’re a wicked one, little Katie Miller.” I laughed as Tom used my nickname from back home. He sat close to me, his arm on the back of my chair and fingers just resting on my shoulder. My eyes took turns focusing on his eyes and lips as he talked, not sure what I preferred. 

There was a tap on the microphone, signaling the beginning of the event. Richard was at the podium, causing all of the chatter in the room to die down. Tom unwrapped his arm from my chair and straightened up to face the stage.

“Thank you for being here,” Richard said. “We’re in a new position here at Adidas. Never before had we had an athlete create his or her own clothing line. To be quite honest, we’ve never had a female swimmer represent our company. Until we met Kate Miller.”

“Kate hates it when I tell this story, but I’m going to do it anyways. Hopefully she will forgive me later,” Richard laughed. “When we approached Kate after she finished swimming for the University of Michigan about representing Adidas, she laughed us off.” The crowd laughed when Richard paused. “She told me she was going with Speedo since it was more well known and had, and I quote, ‘cuter suits.’ Wanting to increase our name in the swimming world, I insisted she come to our headquarters in Germany and at least see what we had to offer. And if you haven’t yet had the chance to meet Kate, she’s not stupid. She took the free trip.”

The crowd roared in laughter and I joined it. Richard did have a great sense of humor.

“When she got to Germany, she heard about what we wanted to do and we found out more about what she wanted to do. By the end of the week, we had our swimming superstar,” Richard nodded his head, telling someone behind the scene to fire up the projector. On the screen behind him, photos and video clips of our fashion shoot and swim suits lit up the make shift stage. “Seven years later, she’s still with us. And thanks to her labor of love, we are launching our first swimwear line designed by Kate tomorrow. Join us in celebration of the Kate Miller Swimwear line.”

There was a round of applause, followed by Richard motioning me up to the stage. I got up from my seat, which Tom helped me up from, and made my way to the stage, hoping I wouldn’t trip like a certain friend of mine. 

Once the applause died down, I spoke into the microphone, suddenly feeling nervous as I saw some media in the back of the restaurant. “Wow, all I did is boss some people around and I get a round of applause,” I laughed and other joined in. “I really want to thank Adidas for allowing me to do two of my dreams, the first being my own swimwear line. I would spend countless hours doodling swim suits and clothing when I was younger and I’m very lucky to be able to see those doodles come to life.”

I took in a shaky breath, suddenly feeling the alcohol rush through my body.

“The second dream I am very grateful for is having the chance to swim professionally. For many swimmers, their time in the pool ends after high school or college. I knew I didn’t want that and, thankfully, Adidas didn’t want that for me either,” I smiled at Richard, tears threatening my eyes. “I’m happy to be doing what I am doing and very happy that Richard offered me that free trip. Because on that trip, I found where I belonged.” 

Two of the designers that helped me with the swim wear line joined me on stage and we spoke a little bit about the work that went into the line — three years in the making — as well as what it meant. After about an hour on the stage, we were done, leaving people to eat and mill around, looking at the promotional material strewn across the room. 

I went back to my table, taking my time on the stairs since I was feeling slightly tipsy, where Tom greeted me with a kiss on the cheek. “That was a great speech,” he said in my ear. “Maybe you could have a career as a speech writer.”

I smiled as we sat down, a waiter bringing by plates of appetizers. “Well, when you win an Oscar I will write your speech.”

Tom gave a hearty laugh. “Isn’t that the girlfriend’s responsibility anyway?”

I froze when I heard him say the “G” word. Spending consecutive days together qualified us as boyfriend-girlfriend? 

I tried to act like nothing happened, but I was a terrible liar. “Kate, I —” Tom started before he was interrupted by Richard. 

“There’s a few media outlets that would like to do an interview,” he said. I got up much faster than I intended, sneaking a glance at Tom, suddenly feeling awful about the look he had on his face. I put that frown there.

Richard, with Donovan in tow, led me to the back wall of the main part of the restaurant, where a select few media outlets were placed. I started at the beginning of the line, taking on the questions solo. 

They started out fine, asking my thoughts about the swim wear line, my hopes for its future and my future with Adidas. But once I got to the end, the questions were a bit more personal, making me uncomfortable. 

“Miss Miller, I see you’re here with Tom Hiddleston,” a reporter from the The Sun asked me. “Are you two in a relationship?”

I paused, my mouth agape, before recovering as smoothly as I could, “I would rather stick to questions about my swimsuit line.”

“How long have you two been seeing each other?” The reporter continued, as if I didn't even protest. “You two were spotted getting close during today’s tennis matches. Care to comment?” 

“There were photos of you at the BAFTA after party, where you aware of that?” another reporter chimed in. “Can you confirm you are an item?”

I felt like my back was against a wall. Sink or Swim; fight or flight. Unfortunately, all I wanted to do what take flight. I just stood there, staring like an idiot, trying my hardest not to break down. My heart began to race again, this time faster than ever before.

“The press conference is over. That’s all the questions for Miss Miller,” Donovan snapped from behind me, gripping my arm and sweeping me away. He took me to the bathroom and locked the door behind him. “Are you okay?”

I leaned against the wall, my chest heaving with the anxiety that was wrecking my body. All I could do was breath heavy, trying to form words. “I c-c-can’t br-breathe.”

“Just take a breath, honey, breathe,” Donovan placed his hands on my shoulders, giving me the feeling of stability. “What happened?”

I just shook my head, not wanting to relive the situation as I retold it. “I just want to leave.”

“Okay, that’s fine.”

“M-my clutch is at the table.”

“I’ll go get it and tell Richard you’re leaving,” Donovan released my shoulders, squeezing my hands. “I’ll be right back. Stay here.”

As Donovan left the bathroom, I was finally able to regain control of my breathing. I closed my eyes and curled into the wall, appreciating the cool tile against my face.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's time to find out the reason behind Kate's fear/hate to the media! :)

As I regained my breathing, I heard the door open and a click of the lock, followed by a voice that was deeper than Donovan’s.

“Kate?”

_Tom._

My eyes opened in surprise and I straightened my body. “What are you doing in here?”

He held my clutch in front of him. “Donovan told me you were having a panic attack? I told him I wanted to be with you.”

“Oh,” I responded, suddenly embarrassed that Tom was seeing me like this. He set my clutch on the bathroom vanity, taking a couple steps closer to me and shoving his hands in his pockets. 

“Was it what I said? Kate, I didn’t mean to freak you out.”

“No, it wasn’t that,” I assured him, although it did take me by surprise. “It was the media.”

“Why? What happened?”

I looked up at him, not sure if I wanted to get into my whole anxiety issue with the media; although, he did already know part of the reason why. “It’s stupid, really.” 

“Kate, judging your reaction, I don’t think it was anything stupid,” Tom firmly placed his hands on my arms, staring into my eyes. “You can tell me anything. You can trust me.”

I stared at him for a full minute, feeling a weird sense of calm over come me as I looked into his crystal blue eyes. “It happened so long ago, but whenever I’m harassed by paparazzi or the media, I’m that little girl again.”

“What are you talking about, love?”

I closed my eyes, trying to push the memory out of my head once more. “When I was 11, my parents let me visit Britt in Hollywood by myself. I was so excited. I got to ride the plane by myself and she took me all around the city.”

“I didn’t realize she had become so famous after she did Titanic,” I recalled. “I already was wary of the media after what happened when I made the Olympic team.” Tom nodded his head, recalling our conversation from the other night. 

“These paparazzi were merciless. They would surround us, yell at us and call us names to get a photo,” I continued. Tom was rubbing his hands up and down my arms, keeping me warm as my body shivered from the memory. “The worst of it was when we left a store and they were outside waiting for us. While trying to get to Britt, one photographer grabbed me and pushed me down, not even bothering to give me a second thought.”

“Kate, that’s horrible,” Tom whispered. 

“That’s not even the worse part,” my eyes started to well with tears. “Britt being, well, Britt, she lost it. She went after the guy, broke his camera and punched him square in the face. He took her to court for it, but her lawyers were able to keep it out of the press.”

“What happened?”

“I had to testify in front of a judge and explain what happened. It was a year of going back and forth. It was awful. My parents were really mad at my sister, saying she didn’t take good care of me, which wasn’t fair. Or true. There were just so many of them. Whenever I see a group of paparazzi or people with cameras, I just have flashbacks of that moment and have a panic attack.”

“What about when you’re at the Olympics?”

“That’s different. They’re not allowed in the Olympic Village and when I pose with my medal, they’re not mean and they don’t chase me. Plus I can walk away whenever I want.”

“Red carpets?”

I shrugged. “Usually Britt is with me so I’m not as scared.”

“Kate, I’m so sorry,” Tom hugged me to him. I clutched to him, my arms slipping under his open jacket and my face buried in his chest. “What caused you to have a panic attack tonight?”

I turned my head so he could hear me, but kept my arms wrapped around his body. I could hear the faint beat of his heart and his lungs expand with each breath of air he took. It was steady and calm. He was steady and calm. My rock. “It was going all as planned and suddenly they started asking me about you and why we were together. How long we have been…together.”

“God, Kate, I’m sorry,” Tom’s hand was back moving up and down my back. “Maybe I shouldn’t have come.”

“No!” I snapped my head up, looking at him square in the face. “I wanted you to be here. I’m glad you came tonight.”

“Even though I insinuated you are my girlfriend and you ran off?”

It was right then or there I knew I had to make a decision. I do like Tom a lot, why shouldn’t I take the next big step and see where it goes? Even if that does come with the large price tag of my private like? _Stop over thinking it, Kate. Take a leap! Tom’s worth the risk!_

“I’ll admit it, it freaked me out,” I said. Since I was honest and told Tom about my fear, I decided to be honest with him about this. “Tom, I really like you. And I would love to be your girlfriend.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” the first genuine smile of the night appeared on my face. And only Tom could have put that there.

Tom gently set his forehead against mine and looked into my eyes. “That’s the best news I’ve heard all night.”

I bounced up on my tiptoes and gave Tom a quick kiss, unable to make his smile — or mine — go away. Tom tucked that same damn piece of hair I fought with earlier behind my ear and pulled me against him. I stared at our reflection in the mirror. We looked really good together, our tall frames perfectly complementing each other.

“Do you want to leave?” Tom asked me. 

“So bad,” I laughed. He chuckled and released me, only to lace his fingers through mine. It was weird. I started my day as a single woman and ended it with a boyfriend, in a bathroom oddly enough. We exited the bathroom and were about to head for the door when I saw the media camping out. I stopped dead in my tracks and my body went stiff. 

“They’re not going to hurt you, Kate. I won’t let them. Ever.” he whispered in my ear. “Come on, I’ve snuck out of this restaurant more than once.”

Tom led me down the hallway from the bathroom to a service entrance to the kitchen. He meandered through the stainless steel counters and large appliances, my shoes clicking on the white tiled surface. Tom threw open a door with his shoulder, leading us to the ally. We walked a few feet to the street and Tom checked for any cameras before pulling me out on the sidewalk with him. 

He waved down a taxi, opening the door for me and helping me in. He gave the cab driver a street name I was unfamiliar with and off we went.

“Where are we going?” 

Tom answered by wrapping his arm around my shoulders, pulling me securely against him. “My place.”


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)

Tom’s flat wasn’t anything like I imagined. I didn’t really know what to expect, but I envisioned a grand building with a large space for his home. While the building was regal looking and had a doorman to buzz us in, Tom’s flat was no more fancy than my own home in Ann Arbor. Actually, it may have been smaller than my tiny rental house.

As Tom shut and locked the door behind us, I looked around his decent-sized living room, noting the three bookshelves full of books and movies. His worn brown leather couch faced a tiny fireplace, with a newer looking TV off in the corner. The kitchen, which was off of the living room, was very tiny. Like very, very tiny. I could probably stand in the middle and touch both walls. At the same time. 

The entire kitchen, just as the living room, was white brick. The kitchen was a little dated with white cabinets and a laminate wood-looking counter. He had modern appliances — refrigerator, stove, microwave, etc. — and a bright red range over his stove. His window looking out over London was stained glass, which I’m sure was beautiful in the sunlight. 

None of it was showy. It was simple, plain and humble, just like Tom.

“I had a feeling there would be media camped out at your hotel,” he said, taking off his suit jacket and depositing it over the back of the couch. “The media has quite a few loops to jump through in order to take photos here.”

“Thanks, Tom,” I gave a weak smile. Not knowing what to say or do next, I looked out his wall of windows in the living room and marveled at how lit up London was. “I think you have a great view of London.”

We walked over to the window and looked out in comfortable silence, not saying anything else. Instead, I simply enjoyed being in Tom’s company, his body standing close to mind. It was nice to be together and not have to say anything. 

“Have you lived here long?” I asked Tom after nearly ten minutes of silence. 

“Once I graduated from RADA and got my first real acting job, I bought the place,” Tom told me, turning his back to the windows and looking at his place. “I could afford something nicer, but I like my home. It reminds me of where I come from.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” I smiled. 

After Tom got us each a bottle of water, we sat on his couch and talked and enjoyed the view of the city. 

“What time is your Wimbledon party tomorrow?” I asked after taking a sip of my water. 

“You still want to go after tonight?” 

“Of course.”

We agreed to attend the second day of Adidas’ Wimbledon party, which was hosted by Usain Bolt, and head to Tom’s invite-only party right after, since it was held just on the other side of the arena. 

We talked a little bit more about Tom’s remaining film schedule for High Rise, which would start back up the day after tomorrow, and his next project, a film about Hank Williams. He will start filming in Louisiana in October and would finish just before Christmas.

“It hasn’t been announced yet, but I’m really excited,” he said. “I’ve been taking some vocal lessons to help get that country twang right.”

“I didn’t know you could sing.”

“I’ve been known to shut down some karaoke bars,” Tom joked, a small smirk playing on his lips. Why must he be this adorable?

While Tom was raving about the movie and what he hoped to bring to it, I tried to stifle my yawns of exhaustion. 

“I think you’re ready for bed,” he laughed. I was about to protest when I saw that it was well past midnight; we had been talking for nearly three hours. Tom took my hands and pulled me up from the couch. “Come on, time to drop off.”

“Who’s dropping where?”

Tom laughed. “You American. Time for bed, I said.”

I followed Tom to his bedroom, too tired to go through the “I’m in his bedroom — now what?” stage. I just wanted to sleep. While his apartment had only two rooms, his large bedroom more than made up for the tiny living room and kitchen. His bed was on a raised part of the room, three steps leading to the dark wood queen sized bed and bedside table. On the other side of the room was a desk, chair and laptop, which I assumed was his office, a closet and door to a decent-sized master bathroom. Tom had some paintings and photographs on his wall, with one William Shakespeare displayed on a poster over the desk. Typical Tom. 

While I sneakily looked around his room, Tom pulled out some clothes from his dresser against the shorter wall. He brought them over to me: sweatpants and a dark blue shirt.

“I don’t have anything pink,” he joked. “Or looser fitting.”

“This will be just fine, thanks.”

“I’ll let you have the bed, I can bunk on the couch.”

“Tom, we’re adults, we can both be in the bed,” I laughed. After some convincing, Tom finally relented to sleeping in the bed. To be honest, after what I went through tonight, I didn’t want to be alone with my thoughts. Tom was about to leave the room to let me get undressed when I stopped him. “Will you unzip me? My arms don’t bend like that.”

Tom walked over to me and took the tiny zipper of my dress into his now shaky hands. As the zipper slid down its track, his knuckles grazed over the skin of my back. Once the zipper was all the way down, everything from my waist and up was exposed through a crack of fabric. Tom mumbled about being in the living room and quickly left, causing me to chuckle. 

I quickly shed my dress, gently draping it over the desk chair. I was amazed I could fit in Tom’s sweatpants, since we’re almost the same height, but I wasn’t as comfortable as I would have been. And I decided to leave my bra on, since his t-shirt was a close fit, if you know what I mean. I didn’t want to give Tom any false hope for something going on under the sheets. We weren’t at that stage yet. I quickly ran to the bathroom, washed my hands and face and brushed my teeth with some toothpaste on my finger. Not glamorous, but it got the job done. 

After I was ready for bed, I opened the bedroom door, letting Tom know he could come back in.

“Do you have a particular side you sleep on?” I asked as he unbuttoned his shirt. I was trying to busy myself with pulling back the bed spread and sheet, but was failing miserably once he totally shed his shirt. 

“Nah, I usually just sleep wherever my body lands,” he said. “Pick whatever side you want, darling.”

I should have shown Tom the same courtesy he showed me, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away. I didn’t expect him to be ripped under all his proper, well-fit suits. He had broad shoulders, nicely shaped biceps and abs a Greek god would kill for. I was a little disappointed to see him slip on a grey sleeping shirt, but happy to see him take off his pants, or so I thought. 

He stopped himself from taking his pants off and went over to his dresser, pulling out a pair of plaid boxers. He shot a glance back to me, so I made myself look busy, turning on the light by the side table. Tom went to the bathroom and shut the door. After a couple minutes, he came out with the boxers on and his breath smelling of mint. I flipped the covers back for him and he got in, kissing me on the lips before turning the light on the side of his table off. Suddenly we mirrored an old couple. 

I’m not going to lie, it was awkward for a few minutes, both Tom and I laying next to each other. I listened to his breath even out, but was still unable to fall asleep, my senses heightened. After contemplating turning on my side and snuggling next to Tom for what felt like forever, I decided to go for it. I’m not really a cuddler and I didn’t know if he was either, so I wasn’t sure how it would work out. 

I turned on my side and rolled into Tom, my hand automatically finding its place on his chest. Not missing a beat, Tom’s arms came around me, holding me to him. We didn’t say anything nor did we have to. Instead, I listened to his even breaths and felt the rise and fall of his chest against my hand. 

And that was how I fell asleep.


	23. Chapter 23

At six in the morning, Tom and I both woke to the sound of a shrill ring. Tom, a lighter sleeper than I, jumped up with a start and threw off the covers, startling me in the process. I wasn’t sure what was going on or what was making that noise. An alarm? The smoke detector? The end of the world?

“What is it?” I groaned.

“My phone,” he said, his voice still wrecked with sleep, before disappearing into the living room. I laid back down and pulled the covers up to my chin, feeling the London chill coming through the set of windows above the bed. “Hi, Luke.”

Tom remained silent for quite some time. I couldn’t hear the other end of the conversation, but I imagine it was about last night activities. 

“Luke, Luke, just listen….Luke!” Tom was now yelling into his phone. “I didn’t tell you because it just happened…Not even 12 hours ago!...Who cares what they are saying?”

While Tom and Luke exchanged more words, I decided to get up. I made the bed before going to the bathroom, splashing some cold water on my face and fixing my hair. I took the pins out from my updo, soft curls framing my face.

Tom sounded like he was finishing up the conversation, so I decided to enter the living room. I hovered at the doorframe while he paced back and forth between the couch and the glass coffee table. 

“Fine, fine, we’ll be here,” Tom’s voice finally lowered. He wasn’t really mad, just more alarmed by whatever Luke was saying. “We’re doing Wimbledon again today, so we have to leave by eight.” 

Tom hung up and huffed out a frustrated breath. He sat down on the couch and ran his hands through his hair, only making his bed head worse. “Luke is dropping by in ten minutes. He called from the car.”

“I take it we’re not happy to see Luke?” I sat next to him and ran my hand over his back. 

“Not when I could have been sleeping with my girlfriend for another hour.” I smirked at his comment and placed a kiss on his cheek. Obviously he was trying to keep the atmosphere light. I was about to get up from the couch when he pulled me back down, bringing my lips to his. His morning whiskers were rough on my skin, but I liked it. It made me feel each kiss and little move of his mouth.

We were on our third kiss when I heard my cell phone go off, the familiar snippet of Britney Spears’ “It’s Britney, bitch,” meaning it could only be my very own sister. 

“Now I have to go deal with my wet blanket,” I mumbled against Tom’s lips. He gave me a quick kiss before releasing me. I fished my phone from my clutch and went to the bedroom, sitting on Tom’s bed. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready for bed?” I said as my hello.

“I would, but that’s kind of hard to do when Jerry keeps calling,” she snapped back. Brittney’s publicist, Jerry, took me on as a client once I signed my contract for the Hunger Games films. His brother, Evan, is my publicist for sports-related news while Jerry looks over anything related to my newly minted celebrity status, obviously including my romantic life. “What the hell is going on?”

“I don’t know,” I answered back in the same tone. “They just saw Tom and I together and started yelling at me. I didn’t respond, but I think my running off told them I was guilty.”

“They have pictures of Tom leaving your hotel the other night,” Brittney told me. 

I suddenly felt the color drain from my face. “T-they’ve been following me this whole time?”

“Kate, I’m sorry,” her voice softened. “I know what you’re going through right now. Just don’t let them get to you. It’s just words. Just rumors.”

“Well, not really,” I conceded, a smile springing to my face when I heard my sister squeal. 

“Shut up! When?”

I took a quick glance into the living room, seeing Tom walking to the kitchen. “Last night. After the media caused me to have a breakdown.”

“Assholes,” Brittney huffed out a breath. “What are you doing now?”

“Um…I’m at Tom’s flat.”

“Kate. What the fuck?”

I got up from the bed and went to the bathroom, shutting the door. “Not like that. Tom figured there would be pappos at the hotel and he didn’t want to put me through that again. All we did was sleep, I swear. In fact, Tom’s publicist is heading over here now.”

“Well, I’ll have Jerry give him a call so they can get facts straight and work together.”

There was a moment of silence before I decided to speak up. “I’m kinda scared, Britt. I’ve never done anything like this.”

“I know. It is scary,” she said, no doubt speaking from experience. “It’s just something you have to deal with now. But don’t let that ruin your view of Tom. I doubt he likes it anymore than you do.”

“Yeah, he really isn’t too happy.”

“Just do whatever his publicist says. Then when you get home you can go under the radar. It will all be okay.”

I said goodbye to Brittney before checking my appearance once more. I left the bathroom and made my way to the living room, stopping when I heard Luke and Tom’s voices. 

“I feel like a bloody idiot bringing her into all of this,” I heard Tom’s voice. “This is all my fault. I should have kept my distance.”

“Tom, neither one of you didn’t know there would be media inside,” Luke assured Tom. “We’ll deal with this. Maybe then they will leave you two alone.”

I went back to the bathroom door and shut it a bit harder, letting the guys know I was about to make my way out. The chattering stopped and I walked out of the room, smiling at Luke and Tom. “Hi.” _Hm, maybe you are a good actress, Kate._

“Hi Kate,” Luke walked over to me and gave me a friendly, supportive hug. I always thought British people were standoffish, but Tom and Luke were single-handedly proving that stereotype wrong. “Come sit with us. Tom made tea.”

“Is it a bad time to say I’ve never really cared for tea?” I teased Tom. I just only had tea when I was sick. Not a good association with the beverage.

“Well, Luke, no problem now. We’re breaking up.” Tom teased back, wrapping his arm over my shoulders. I took my cup from the table and took a sip, actually not minding the taste. 

“Now, the media will be looking for you guys at the matches,” Luke told us. “Tom, the Evian event will have some light media, but nothing like last night.”

Tom nodded his head, not saying much. I just looked from Tom to Luke, never having had a briefing like this. 

“Are you going to sit next to each other at Wimbledon?” Tom nodded his head. “Are you going to walk the red carpet at the Evian party?” Tom was about to nod his head again, but I blurted out the first word that formed in my mouth.

“No!” Both Tom and Luke snapped their heads to me, amazed that I said anything at all. “It’s just that, I don’t like red carpets.”

“Even if you don’t walk together, you should still be on the carpet,” Luke said, bringing his cup of tea to his lips. “Keep up an appearance. Their taunting isn’t going to keep you from going out.”

“He’s right, Kate. We don’t have to do it together,” Tom was rubbing my shoulder with his thumb, trying to comfort me.

Britt’s voice ran through my head, _Do whatever his publicist says._ “Okay.”

“I can start responding to the many calls I’ve received,” Luke said. “What should I say in my comment?”

“Nothing.”

“Tom,” Luke gave a warning tone, almost as if he was telling Tom to not test him.

“Luke,” Tom gave back in the same tone. “It’s none of their business what we do. If we don’t respond, yet they see us together and unaffected, maybe they will leave us alone.”

Luke was silent for a while, mulling over the idea in his head. I looked from Luke to Tom, seeing a fire still set in his eyes. I looked back to Luke, who was trying to hold Tom’s stare. “I guess that’s what we’ll have to do then.”

The two men talked a little bit more before getting up from their seated positions and going over to the door. As Tom walked Luke out, I noticed the papers on the table, which I assumed Luke brought with him. 

On the front cover of The Morning Star was a photo of Tom and I with the words “the actor and the athlete” in capitalized white font. The Daily Mail teased photos of us inside, with a small photo on the top of the page of Tom and I leaving The Ivy’s bathroom last night. The worst was The Sun, which had separate pictures of us on the front, followed by the words “Hiddles bags gold” in huge type and a list of places they had photographed us, including my hotel, the Adidas party and getting in a cab. 

I kept starring at the headline, feeling sick at the word “bag” and how it was used, like I was a prize or some memento to go in a collection. Before I had the chance to read the other covers Tom snatched them all and ripped them in half. “Don’t read that rubbish.”

He threw them in the wastebasket in the kitchen and poured himself another cup of tea. I heard him let out another airy huff of breath before joining me back on the couch. I must have look terrified, because Tom softened his look and set down his mug, wrapping me in a hug.

“They’re not going to get anywhere near you,” he said. “I won’t let them. I swear.”

“I know,” I tried to say as strong as I could. Tom wrapped his index finger under my chin and pulled my lips to his. The kiss was sweet and re-assuring, not heated or over the top. He released my lips first, resting his forehead against mine. 

“I’m sorry, Kate,” he whispered.

I tried to give a smile, but I couldn’t hold it in place. I really hated being in this situation, but what could be done? “It’s just a way of life, I suppose.”

Tom gave me a weak smile before getting up from the couch. “Let me get ready then I will drive us over to your hotel so you can change.”

I nodded my head and Tom disappeared to his room, closing the door behind him. I let out a breath and held my head in my hands. 

“You can do this, you can do this,” I told myself over and over, not sure if I was talking about today or my new relationship.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, today is my birthday!!! Yay!
> 
> And in honor of that, I give you the gift of an update! Two times in one week?! YUP!
> 
> Also, here is a photo of the dress, if you're interested: http://www.pinterest.com/pin/121386152431022667/
> 
> Drop a comment on your way out, if you can! :)

Tom had one of the parking garage attendants bring his car to the back of the apartment complex for us to sneak into. He drove us over to my hotel so I could change out of the sweats and shirt, which I opted to keep on instead of my designer dress. Tom stayed out in the car while I quickly changed into a white cap sleeve dress, which had a dark blue lace fabric overlay from the chest to a few inches above where the dress ended at the knee. I opted for a nude pair of flats, since I didn’t know if I would need to run away from paparazzi today, grabbed my oversized white clutch and was out the door. 

From the hotel, Tom drove us to the All England Club and was able to park in a private VIP parking lot after flashing his Evian badges. Tom assured me no media would be camped out in the parking lot or on the route to the arena. I followed Tom into the arena, my eyes on the lookout for any sort of camera. While there weren’t any media, there were a few fans of Tom’s. 

“Hi, Tom,” a small group of fans approached him. “I was wondering, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble, for a photo?”

Tom flashed his signature smile and nodded, taking the camera from the shaking girl’s hands. “Not a problem, darling.”

I stood off to the side, not sure what to really do in this situation. Whenever Britt was noticed on the street, I usually offered to take the photo. Lately, people had been asking for both Britt and I to be in the photo. 

As I watched the group take their photo, I couldn’t help but notice the curious glances they gave me. One girl even went as far as to shoot me a glare. Was this going to be the norm for us?

“Are you watching the matches today?” Tom made small talk as he signed a few pieces of paper and program pamphlets. I shifted on my feet and tried to avoid the murderous glares. 

“Bye! Thank you so much,” the group called as he said his goodbye. 

He waved to the group and offered me his arm, leading me back into the arena. Even though we were walking away, I could still feel their dagger glares shooting into my back.

“Sorry, Kate,” he said. “I didn’t know they would be allowed out here.”

We finished walking into the arena in silence, making our way to the far side for the Adidas party. We walked up the short set of stairs to the room, where Usain Bolt instantly greeted me with a huge hug and smile.

“Kate! I’m so glad you could be here!” 

“I wouldn’t miss today!” I laughed. “This party is probably going to be the best party of the entire event!”

I introduced Tom — for the first time as my boyfriend — to Usain, who proceeded to tell him how much he loved the Thor movies. Tom in turn complimented Usain on his career and began to confess how much he loved running. I took this opportunity to sneak over to the bar and order a drink for Tom and I. 

“How are you doing, honey?” Donovan asked from behind me.

“Fine,” I put on a smile and took my drink from the bartender. 

“Don’t lie to me, sugar,” Donovan gave me a look. “I know when you’re putting on a fake smile.”

I conceded. He was so right. “I’m a little scared, but I’m doing fine. Tom vowed to keep me safe.”

“He better, otherwise he’s going to have this queen all up in his face.”

I laughed at Donovan and talked a little bit longer before letting him get back to work. Tom joined me over at the bar and hid my body from anyone’s view, pressing a kiss to my lips. 

“What was that for?” I asked, handing him his drink.

“I don’t think I kissed you yet today,” he said as a matter of fact. 

“You did,” I reminded him. “Multiple times.”

“Oh yeah,” he pressed another light kiss on my lips. “I guess I went too long without kissing you that I forgot.”

“Ah, that happens.”

“You’re quiet today,” he said, his face turning more serious. 

“It’s nothing,” I tried to brush him off, but I knew he saw right through me. “I’m just tired.”

Tom reluctantly pulled himself away from me and led me to the seats outside. Since we were early, we were the first two out in Adidas’ viewing area. Tom rested his arm on the back of my chair as we watched the participants of the first match warm up on the court. Andy wasn’t taking the court today, instead his next round would begin tomorrow afternoon.

“I hope to be done on set tomorrow before Andy’s match starts,” Tom said. “It’s supposed to be more fighting sequences, so who knows.”

“How much more filming do you have?” I took a sip of my water. I decided after pounding drinks last night and the high adrenaline flowing through my body today, adding more alcohol to my body wouldn’t be wise. 

“A month. Then I’ll have a little break before starting on I Saw the Light.”

“I can tell you right now, my mom is going to demand to see it. She loves Hank Williams.”

Tom chuckled and took my hand. “Then you both will have to come to the set.”

We talked a little bit more about his preparations for the movie until we heard Usain’s laugh, followed by his cheerful voice. He was followed by a couple of friends down to the seating area and sat next to Tom, asking a few more questions about his role as Loki. As I watched the two converse, I had to wonder if Tom grew tired of getting the same questions over and over. For a while, Britt was annoyed with the questions she would get after being in Titanic and her years as a Power Ranger, but now she didn’t seem to mind. And judging by Tom’s rapid hand movements and the twinkle in his eye, something told me he loved playing Loki. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” I heard Leo say from the side, startling me. 

“You scared me!” I playfully slapped his arm as he took the seat next to me. 

He pulled his tan newsboy cap down more, slightly covering his eyes, and smirked. “So, I saw an interesting photo as I read my morning paper.”

“Are you sure you weren’t looking in a mirror?” 

Leo laughed and shook his head. “I’m judging by your sarcastic remark I’m right.” I didn’t say anything in response; instead, I just gave him a look. “I think you’re very cute together.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you use the word ‘cute.’”

“Only for you, dear Katie.”

“Are you holding up okay?” his voice turned more serious. There’s the big brother I know and love.

“The media is being just how I expected them to be,” I shook my head, still hearing the clicking of their cameras in my head. “I imagine my parents are now getting word about it. Mom’s probably freaking out.”

“Don’t let them get to you.”

I looked over at Tom and saw he was still grossly enamored with Usain, who was now talking about his training regime. I turned my body more toward Leo, hopefully so Tom wouldn’t hear me. “Everyone keeps telling me that, but I don’t know to do that. How do I keep them from getting to me?”

“Don’t give them what they want,” Leo replied in a hushed tone. “They want you to lash out, so don’t. They want you to run away, don’t do it. Just ignore them and carry on with your life.”

I rested my head against my seat and sighed. He made it sound so easy. But given his twenty plus years of experience with the media, he had a point. “I’ll try.”

“Look, you’re big news now, but that will go away in time,” he said. “There’s always something better to come along, something more newsworthy. Come a week from now, they won’t even remember your name. And I doubt this is big news back home.”

“You think so?”

“I know so,” he put his arms around my shoulder and pulled me to him. “Trust me.”

The match between Rafael Nadal and a Hungarian tennis player I was unfamiliar with began, causing our conversations to dwindle. I straightened my position in my seat and focused on the game, the back and forth noise of the ball hitting the rackets soothing me. 

Tom slid his hand into mine, lacing our fingers together, before putting his lips against my ear. “Turn your brain off,” he whispered. “Everything will be fine.”


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everybody's lovable friend Benedict makes an appearance!!!

Tom and I both did what Luke instructed and walked the red carpet at the Evian event. Tom went on the carpet first and I followed suit after a few more people took to the carpet before me. There wasn’t a whole lot of media on the small red carpet, but many of the papers that were writing about Tom and I were there, including The Sun and Daily Mail. They yelled out questions at me, asking if Tom and I were a thing and what we were doing today. I just ignored them, looking at the backdrop and zoning out. 

Once I stepped off the red carpet, Tom, who was waiting in the shadows by the door, grabbed my hand and pulled me to his side. I felt safe once again. 

“I hope that was painless,” he spoke, his hand now traveling from my hand, up my arm and across my back. 

“I survived,” I smiled. 

The Evian party was held in the largest convention room at the All England Club. The walls were decked out in various colors — pink, blue, white — in keeping with Evian’s theme. There were table tennis tables set up with multiple friendly games going on at once. There were a few seating tables set up by the bar, otherwise, people were milling around, standing wherever.

I glanced over the crowd in the room, but didn’t see one familiar face I knew. 

“The last two years I attended the party I was pretty successful in table tennis,” Tom said, brining my attention to two gentlemen at one of the tables, dueling it out for the win. “I’m going for the three-peat.”

“Well your record shall stay intact. I am terrible with ping pong,” I laughed, recalling an incident at a frat party a few years back. Then again, I was drunk. And it was more beer pong that ping pong.

“I’m shocked, an Olympic athlete terrible at sport?”

“My hand-eye coordination isn’t the greatest,” I admitted. “You don’t really need that in swimming. Actually, I’m surprised I haven’t dropped anything around you yet.”

“Well, I am a good luck charm.”

I rolled my eyes and Tom laughed. He pressed a light kiss to the top of my head and walked us over to the bar, where they were serving water-based alcoholic drinks (yeah, not that appealing to me either) and full bottles of Evian water. I took just a bottle of water while Tom got one of their specialty drinks. 

After taking a sip of his drink, Tom was about to say something before a voice interrupted us.

“Thomas, Thomas, Thomas,” the voice called. We looked behind us and watched Benedict Cumberbatch walk toward us. “I thought we were supposed to coordinate our outfits better.” 

I looked from Tom to Benedict, noting that both men were wearing grey suits. Benedict had on a jacket while Tom went with just a grey vest, similar to the outfit he wore at the Entertainment Weekly party nine months ago. 

“Darling, you didn’t get my message?” Tom teasingly responded. “You should really check those. We can’t have another fashion blunder.” 

I shook my head at the two as they traded friendly insults, just as if they were brothers. 

“Ben, I would like to introduce you to my girlfriend, Kate,” Tom put his hand on the small of my back and gave a big smile, proud to show me off. Benedict and I exchanged a look and laughed. “What? What’s so funny?”

“We’ve already met,” Benedict explained. “I met Kate nearly 10 years ago. Plus we photo bombed others at the Oscars. It was quite a lot of fun.”

“Yeah, Benedict’s pretty good at photobombing. I learned a thing or two,” I said.

“You could learn more if you stick with me,” Benedict teased. 

“Hey, now,” Tom pushed Benedict back, causing both guys to chuckle. “Why don’t you lead us to a table?”

We followed Benedict over to the tables, Tom still holding my hand. We sat down and talked a little about the matches, which honestly, I was getting tired of doing. These British men and their tennis. The conversation then turned to recent auditions and upcoming movies for the two men.

“Kate, you should do another movie,” Benedict told me. 

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” I laughed.

“See! I told you other people want to see you in movies,” Tom chastised. 

“Yeah! Like a period piece…or an action movie. Or zombies!”

I shot Benedict a look, then gave it to Tom. “You two are crazy,” I got up from the table. “Go back to talking about tennis.”

I walked over to the bar to get a drink, decided that I was finally calm enough to handle some alcohol. I watched the bartender make my drink — vodka, Evian water and a squeeze of honey — when I heard a female voice call my name. I looked over and found Rebecca Adlington, a swimmer from England. I wasn’t close friends with her, but had gotten to know her over the years through various competitions. Since she had retired this past year, I had lost contact with her. 

“Rebecca,” I opened my arms to her, giving her a good squeeze. “I didn’t know you were going to be here! I meant to text you.”

“I had to get a new phone, so it wouldn’t have mattered,” she said. “How long have you been in town?”

“A few days now, all business, so I haven’t had much time to play.”

Before the conversation went any longer, I got Rebecca’s number so I could call her next time I was in London. It would be nice to know more than a handful of people in the large city.

“So I couldn’t help but see The Sun this morning,” she said. “I didn’t read the article, just so you know. But they can be a real pain.”

Rebecca told me about her biggest plight with the media, when she had her nose done. “I was always self conscience about it, but the media treated me like some slag once they found out I had it done. I was doing it for me, but after they tormented me, I became self conscience all over again.”

“That’s horrible. I would say don’t let it get to you, but I know that’s hard to do,” I offered. 

“Yeah, it is, but you know what? I got over it. There comes a time you just have to brush off what they say and get on with your life. They can’t dictate what you do around them.”

She was right. She was so right. I can’t live in hiding or stop doing my normal routine just because a few papers publish my photo. If that were the case for anyone else, nothing would get done. 

“Thanks, Rebecca,” I smiled. “I really needed to hear that.”

Rebecca and I moved our location from the bar to the set of windows by the ping pong tables. We talked about everything from news in the swimming world, what Rebecca was doing now and my return to the sport. Nothing about tennis came up, thank god. I didn’t realize how long we had been talking until Tom came over to us.

“Rebecca, this is my boyfriend, Tom. Tom, this is Rebecca Adlington,” I introduced them. The two shook hands and exchanged pleasantries. As per usual, Tom congratulated Rebecca for all her success in the pool. 

“Ben and I were going to play each other at the tables, want to make it two on two?” 

I looked over at Rebecca and smiled. “Are you sure you want to challenge two gold medal swimmers?”

“You’re hand-eye coordination is terrible right?” Tom teased. “I extend the challenge.”

“Challenge accepted,” Rebecca answered for us. 

The four of us took our spots at the table and began the game. Rebecca pretty much handled our side of the table, easily flicking the plastic ball over the pink net. Both Benedict and Tom easily hit the ball, sending it soaring back over to us. Clearly something in the English genes allows these people to play some form of tennis very well, even if it is in the form of a small plastic ball.

After a half an hour of battle, Rebecca and I came out victorious. Okay, it was more Rebecca than me, but I did manage to tap the ball a few times.

“Your hand-eye coordination may not be there, but Rebecca’s sure was,” Tom told me as he finished off my drink that I no longer wanted. Water-based drinks just should not be made. 

“You didn’t ask me about hers,” I innocently responded. Tom put his hands on my waist and pulled me to him, causing me to smirk. “Just so you know, it was incredibly hard to play in this dress. So it’s like I was playing at Rebecca’s level.”

Tom rolled his eyes, “yeah, yeah.”

I gave Tom a kiss and yanked on his hand. “Come on, second place, I’ll buy you dinner.”


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 26 chapters without any smut? Wow! You guys are really dedicated. So I've decided to reward you all...in an unique way. 
> 
> Thanks, all!

“I just didn’t know you were dating anyone!” My mom said for the tenth time. “Why didn’t you tell me? You and I talk, why didn’t you tell me?”

“Mom!” I shouted, trying to get her attention for the tenth time. “It just happened. Tom and I had been talking for a few months and it just happened. I was going to tell you when I got back home.”

“I hope he’s good to you, Katie,” my mom said. “I only want the best for you. Your father and I both want the best for you.”

“I know, Mom.” I smiled. While my mother could be overbearing, it was just because she worried about her children, me more so than Britt or Zach. “You would really like Tom. He’s charming, smart and very polite.”

“I hope to meet him.”

After we got over the Tom topic, I told my mom about my trip in London and how work was going. I would be flying back to Michigan the day after tomorrow and would begin training full time once again. I live only a couple of hours away from my mom, so she visits me nearly every weekend. While she was excited about my return, I was already dreading being apart from Tom, which was weird. I’ve never really acted like this over a guy. 

I was on the phone with my mom, and later my dad, for an hour. After we hung up, I laid back down on my bed and flipped on the television. After the Evian party yesterday, Tom was going to take me back to his place, no doubt wanting me to feel safe once again. But I insisted on going back to my own hotel so I could be with my thoughts, which I’m not sure Tom wanted to hear. He relented and drove me to the hotel, coming up to spend a few hours with me. Since Tom had to be on set early once again, he called it an early night, leaving my hotel a little after nine. 

I spent my morning swimming, catching up on emails and calling my parents — all of which were done. Now the only thing left on the agenda before heading over to some more matches was a nap. As I pulled the blankets over me and got comfortable in the bed, my phone rang. Of course. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I grumbled. I picked up my phone and answered it without looking at the caller ID. “Hello?”

“Kate, what is going on?” The deep, powerful voice of my coach, Rick, boomed through the phone, stopping me in my tracks. “I have nearly a hundred emails about you and this Tom character. What is going on?”

“He’s not a character,” I shot back, already getting defensive. “And it’s the media blowing this out of proportion.”

“This is a distraction, that’s what this is,” he continued. “You don’t need this going into your comeback.”

“Don’t call it a comeback,” I said, wincing at my choice of words. Hope LL Cool J didn’t mind me borrowing part of his lyrics.

“It’s crunch time,” Rick’s tone softened. “There’s only a few weeks until Nationals and two years until the Olympic trials. If you want to be in your top form, you need to get to it.”

“It’s going to be fine. I’ll be back in Ann Arbor in two days and start up the routine again. This isn’t going to distract me.”

There was silence between the two of us, but I knew this conversation wasn’t over. Rick just didn’t let things go. Oh no, he brought them up weeks, months, even years later just to push you or get an emotion out of you. I knew Tom would be ammunition for him during the next two years, and I already hated that fact. 

“I really like him,” I whispered. “Don’t use this against me.”

“Have you been swimming?” he asked, skipping over my plea. 

“Yes. I even got some dry land in today,” I walked over to my bed, feeling the slight burn in the back of my legs from all the wall squats I did.

“Good,” Rick said before another awkward silence fell between us. “I hope to meet this Tom.”

I smirked. “Get in line.”

“I take it your mom is first in line?”

“Oh yeah, she’s already camped out.”

Rick ended the conversation, leaving me a couple hours to take my nap before more tennis. I must have been more tired than I thought, because I fell right to sleep once my head hit the pillow. I don’t know how long I was asleep, but I was slowly drawn out from my slumber by a pair of lips on my neck. 

Realizing that I was the only one in my room, I snapped awake and sat up in a shot, facing whoever it was that had found their way into my room. I was met with a smiling face. “Tom? How did you get in here?”

He kept the smile on his face as he hovered over me. “I can be very convincing,” he kneeled onto my bed. “Especially when the front desk clerk is a fan.”

My head was still a little bit fuzzy, but I was glad to see him. “Oh, okay.”

Tom went back to kissing me, his lips furiously running down my neck and back up to my lips and cheeks. I relented, curling into his touch as his hands slid down my arms. I wrapped my arms around his neck and he pushed me back down into the bed, straddling my legs as he continued to assault my neck. His hands began to work their way to my waist and slowly up my t-shirt I was wearing. My skin broke out in goosebumps as I felt his long, slender fingers travel up, bringing the cotton fabric with them, stopping just below my bra.

“Tom,” I let out a strange call, not even sure it was above a whisper. “Wha—?”

“I thought I could wait, but I don’t think I can,” he answered, hands now cupped over my breasts, his lips on my clavicle. “I need you, Kate. You’re all I ever think about.”

I knew it was probably too soon in our relationship to be doing this, but I didn’t want to stop. I wracked my brain for an excuse to give Tom, but I was coming up empty. I only had two words to offer, “Oh. Okay.”

Tom fully removed my shirt and added his to the mix. I took the opportunity to run my hands from his shoulders and down his chest, my fingers skimming every muscle. Tom undid the belt of his pants, tossing it to the ground. His pants shortly followed, then mine.

Tom ran his hands up my legs, pulling them up to his sides and spreading them. He didn’t say anything or even look at me, which I found weird; instead, he traced his thumb over my center, through my bikini-cut cotton panties. He continued his action a few more times before pulling the fabric aside. 

“Do you want my finger, Kate? Do you want me to fuck you with my finger, darling?”

My breathing had gone from steady to uneven, my chest heaving with the anticipation of what was to come. My mouth had gone dry, so I wasn’t even sure I could respond, but I managed to rasp out a response, “Y-yes-ss.”

“I want to feel you around my finger,” he growled, a lustful look taking over his eyes. “You’re already wet. Is that for me, Kate?”

I nodded, unable to say anything. Tom took his hand away from my center, causing me to whimper, and took my panties off all the way. He threw them behind him and replaced his hand to the spot it was previously, his fingers skimming my opening. His long index finger was about to enter me when a shrill ring filled the air. I shook my head, trying to tell Tom to ignore it, but it kept going off, getting louder and louder each time.

“You better get that,” Tom told me, removing his hand and backing away from me.

“Why?” I groaned. 

“Because,” he sounded far away, his voice now an echo. “It’s me.”

My eyes snapped open and I rolled over to my nightstand. A dream? It was all a dream? One hell of a realistic dream. A thin layer of sweat coated my now shaky body, not to mention a newfound urge coursing through my veins. I grabbed the phone from its spot on the nightstand, my heart skipping a beat as I saw Tom’s goofy photo he demanded I use as his caller ID on my phone.

“Hey you,” I tried to call out in my best “I did not just have a sex dream about you” voice. 

“Hi, darling,” his calm, fluid voice helped settle my nerves, which really, he got going in the first place. “It looks like I’m going to be stuck on set longer than I thought. I don’t think I’ll make it to the matches today.”

“Oh, that’s okay. I understand.”

“I feel awful.”

“Tom, you can’t help it. Work happens.” I truly did understand. I just hoped I hid my disappointment as well as I thought I did. “Call me when you’re done for the night and we can do something.”

“I will.”

After we hung up, I laid back down in bed. Truth be told, I didn’t really want to watch more tennis, nor did I want to spend the rest of my day cooped up in my hotel. Then I got the idea to go visit Tom, which sounded like the perfect plan. 

_But first,_ the voice in my head said, _maybe we should finish that dream._


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! I am giving you guys two — Yes! TWO — chapters! Just because ya'll are awesome!!

Before I jumped in the shower, I texted Tom and told him I was thinking of dropping by set, to which he responded “yes” with twelve exclamation marks. I made sure to get the chlorine smell off in the shower and quickly dressed in jeans and my white long sleeved lace shirt I wore just a few days ago. Good thing I would be returning home in a couple days, I was running out of clean clothes to wear on my trip! 

I had the front desk call me a taxi and gave him the address of today’s filming location, a market just a few blocks down from the apartments they were filming at earlier in the week. It was a thirty-minute car ride from my hotel, which seemed much longer than it actually was. After I paid my driver and got out of the car, I walked up the block, pass the market they were shooting at, and to an empty lot. I saw a line of RVs on the block, which I assumed were being used for trailers. 

I was about to take out my phone and call Tom to see where he was, but he found me first, naturally. 

“I’m so glad you came to visit me,” he spoke into my neck, his arms wrapped around me. He placed a kiss to my neck and turned me around so I could face him. “And I thought today was going to be boring.”

“Far from that.”

Tom told me they were setting up a scene to shoot before he had an early dinner break. Today he wore a charcoal grey suit and green tie, with his hair slicked back with styling product. I normally didn’t like it when guys had more product in their hair than me, but, somehow, Tom made it work.

While the scene was being set up, a few fans approached Tom about a photo or autograph. While wasn’t able to take any photos in costume, he did sign some items and talk with the gaggle of girls — and a few guys — that surrounded him. As I stood off to the side watching the frenzy, I couldn’t help but take notice of the looks I got. Some were curious glances and a glance over; however, many of them were murderous glares. 

“Who is she?” I heard one person ask. “Is that the girl who is supposedly dating him?” I heard another. “She’s not that pretty.”

I kept my expression the same. They weren’t going to get to me.

Soon, more and more people started coming to the spot, nearly swallowing Tom. I don’t know how he did it — surrounded by throngs of girls, but still maintaining his cool. If it was me, I would be panicking. Hell, I was off to the side and I was starting to feel my heart rate increase. I saw a couple security members from the set come over and start turning some fans away, saying they were about to resume filming. I saw Tom call one of them over and talk to him, both looking at me when they were done. 

The man, who introduced himself as Ethan, approached me with a smile. He was tall — 6’4 at least — and very athletic, like a former pro-football player. “Hi, Miss Miller. Mr. Hiddleston asked me to take you to his trailer.”

“Oh, okay,” I followed him over to the lot, shooting a glance back at Tom, who was finishing up some autographs.

We walked the short distance to his trailer in silence. Ethan held the door open for me and shut it once I was in the trailer. I had been in similar trailers before; Tom’s was smaller than what Britt would usually have, but it was still cozy. Not really wanting to sit and wait, I decided to do what I do best — snoop. 

The trailer really wasn’t anything special or out of the ordinary. It had a small room with a bed, which was neatly made with some clothes neatly lying on top of the covers, a modest bathroom and a little kitchenette, with a kettle and packages of teas and cookies sitting out. After checking out the rooms, I took a seat on the tiny couch in the common area, debating whether or not to turn the television on. I ultimately decided to call Zach, who picked up on the second ring.

“What it is, sister?”

“It is boring,” I offered. “I forgot how much I hated waiting around on set for someone else.”

“I take it you are visiting Tom,” he laughed. “I see you took my advice.”

“So you haven’t seen the articles written about me?”

“I don’t have time to spend my days searching you on Google,” Zach scoffed. “Besides, I don’t believe half that crap anyways.”

I switched over the conversation to Zach, who was finishing his last year of college at Harvard. His childhood dream was to become a doctor in the ER, which he vowed to do after a two-year residency. Zach and I both attended the University of Michigan for our undergraduate degrees; he was a freshman while I was a senior. Zach was staying in Cambridge this summer in order to prepare for his last year of medical school.

“I hope you’re doing something fun instead of studying every day,” I told him. “You have to remember to give yourself a break.”

“Says She-Ra, woman warrior of the pool.”

I laughed at my brother. While I was close to Brittney, Zach always had a way of making me laugh. I could be the saddest person in the world and I would still laugh at something he said. Plus, with our three-year age difference, we were always involved in similar activities in high school, so we bonded through sports and other activities. I was very fortunate to be close to both of my siblings. 

While Zach was telling me a story about meeting up with some of our friends from Ann Arbor, Tom’s trailer door opened and he walked in, script in hand. He flashed me a smile before sitting next to me on the couch. 

“Remember what I said about taking a break,” I reminded Zach before hanging up. I reclined my body against Tom, who rested his arm on the back of the couch, just above my head. “My brother is in his last year of med school. We have to remind him to have fun once in a while.”

“Are all of you Millers geniuses?”

“Yeah, you should be very, very afraid of our minds,” I looked up to him. “We can control you with our minds, too.”

“You already have, dear Kate,” Tom tapped my nose and I smirked. I sat upright and turned my body to Tom, who called his assistant to put in our dinner order: salads. Not my favorite, but I didn’t want to be complicated, so I ordered the same thing Tom got.

“I figured you didn’t want to be out there amongst the throngs of cameras and people,” Tom said, explaining why he sent me to his trailer. I shrugged my shoulders, not really sure what to say. “I want you to feel safe around me, Kate. I don’t ever want you to feel like you’re under attack or on the run.”

I was taken back by his words. Did he think that’s how I felt an hour ago? “I don’t feel that way, Tom,” I told him. “It’s just my thing that I have to deal with, but you’ve gone above and beyond making me feel safe.”

Tom brushed back a curl of my hair, resting his hand on the side of my face. “You’re beautiful, Kate.” I must have cringed or made a face, because Tom’s eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. “Why do you always give me that look when I say that?” 

“I don’t know. I’m not used to getting compliments all the time,” I offered. “I’ve never dated guys who willingly give me compliments like that.” Like I said, he broke the mold.

Tom smirked, cupping my face in his hands and drawing me close. “Well, my darling, get used to it.” I smiled against Tom’s lips as he kissed me, a tingly sensation running from my toes to my head. One of his hands slid from my face to my neck and then up and down my back, his fingers tracing a course across my shoulders.

“Hear my soul speak. The very instant that I saw you did my heart fly to your service,” Tom quoted, what I assumed was Shakespeare. “There it resides to make me slave to it.”

My smile grew wider. “Yeah, and I’m definitely not used to that.”

I wrapped my arms around Tom’s neck as he pulled me closer to him, his hands now on my waist. With each second that passed, our kisses grew more passionate. Soon our hands began to wander, Tom’s venturing from my waist to my legs and mine to his chest. I began to wonder where this was going to go — just an intense make out session or more? Was my dream a premonition? 

As Tom’s hand rested on my thigh, he began to nip at my lower lip. Realizing what he wanted, I opened my mouth, giving way to his tongue. He started out slow, flicking his skilled tongue over the tip of mine, before turning the heat up, filling my mouth with more. Every so often, he would sneak in a couple of soft, sweet kisses, which gave us both the time to catch our breath.

I don’t know how long we had been making out; time was completely lost on us. A knock on the door caused us to stop, leaving Tom to answer the door, grumbling and mumbling some expletives. It was his assistant, who handed him our salads. Tom gave a curt thanks and retreated back inside the trailer, setting the salads on the counter and returning to the couch. 

He pulled me back to him, causing me to laugh. “You need to eat,” I pressed my fingers against his lips, gently pushing his face away.

“Nope, I don’t need food,” he shook his head. “I need more of you.”

I relented to Tom’s kisses, getting in a few pecks before getting up from the couch and grabbing our food. I handed Tom his salad and he huffed out a breath. I jokingly rolled my eyes and pealed off the top of my bowl, revealing a tasty looking chicken cesar salad. 

As we ate, Tom talked a little bit about the remaining scenes to film. As he spoke, I couldn’t help but stare at him. He was so passionate, so lively when he spoke about his career.

I was drunk on Tom. His touch was addicting and his scent was intoxicating — I craved it all. Even though we were sitting next to each other, our thighs touching, I wanted to be closer to him. I felt like a sixteen-year-old girl all over again, constantly thinking about her first love. 

It was all so new, so scary, but at the same time, very exciting.


	28. Chapter 28

It was hard to believe it’s been nearly two months since I last saw Tom. The reason being, we talked all the time. If it wasn’t a phone call, it was multiple text messages. We even tried to have a weekly video chat session, but those were far and few between thanks to Tom’s demanding film schedule. 

My schedule was pretty busy too by preparing for Nationals. After my work-cation was done, I was back in Ann Arbor, training full-time. And boy, was it rough. While I had been doing some light swimming in my two-year “break,” if you want to call it that, I hadn’t been doing my usual regimen. They say one day off of training can take two weeks to get back. I shuddered to think what nearly two years would be. 

But none of that mattered, because here I was in Irvine, California, at Nationals, with three thousand other swimmers who made the cut for the meet. I felt like I was home, where I was no different than anyone else. Just another swimmer trying to make the team. Plus a few Olympic medals. 

My preliminary race wasn’t for another couple hours, but I came to the pool early to warm up and get loose. After warming up, with only a few distractions of younger swimmers asking for autographs, I joined my coach, Rick, over in the stands with fellow Club Wolverine swimmers and waited for my race.

“How are you feeling?” he asked me, his eyes still set on the prelim sheet on his clipboard. He was popping his spearmint-flavored gum, something he always did during competitions to keep from grinding his teeth in agitation. During the 2000 Olympics, he went through a whole pack during my 100 freestyle race — he won’t admit it, but I saw all the wrappers in his jacket pocket. 

“I think this is going to be bad,” I responded, staring at some kids jumping into the pool. Funny how the swimmers at Nationals seem to be getting younger and younger. Or maybe that just means I’m getting older?

Rick huffed out a breath and looked over at me, giving me a small smile, which only meant one thing: he was about to soften an upcoming blow. “I don’t think you should expect to make the team this year, Kate. You still have a lot of work to do.”

I softly nodded my head. “Yeah.” I scanned the deck and watched more people mill around the pool deck. I just had to walk around. I didn’t want to be sitting anymore. “I’m gonna go walk around. You know, stay loose.”

“Your race is in 45 minutes. Be back here in 30.”

I put my hand to my forehead and gave a mock salute. “Aye, aye, captain.”

I saw Rick roll his eyes as I left, a small smile spreading on my lips. As much crap we gave each other, we both loved one another. I’ve known him since I was eight — he’s family. 

I didn’t get far on the deck before a familiar voice called my name. Ryan Lochte. If there’s one person in the world who could take me from sad to happy in two seconds, it was Ryan. 

I wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged him close, allowing him to spin me around. He probably had the best hugs, second to Tom, of course. 

“I’ve been looking for you this whole morning,” he said after we broke apart. “I was hoping you would be here.”

“Yeah, I made my cut during a practice session. I just about killed myself.”

“You were bound and determined, huh?”

“Is there any other way?”

During our reunion, we were also joined by Cullen Jones, another Olympian and best friend. It’s well known in the swimming community that when the three of us are together, trouble tends to happen. 

“So, are you liking North Carolina?” I asked Ryan, who recently joined Cullen’s swimming club from Florida. 

“It’s so great to not be a big fish in the small pond,” he said. “It’s nice to come to practice and have a great session, you know?”

I nodded my head, but I didn’t really know. I mean, I did at one time, but that was a while ago. Every elite athlete that used to train with me in Ann Arbor, like Peter Vanderkaay, Kaitlin Sandeno or Klete Keller, had either retired or, like Michael Phelps, had moved back home to train. 

“You should think about coming to SwimMAC,” Cullen said. “It’s really elite. I mean, it’s probably the best, next to Fullerton.”

I had to admit, it did have its appeal. But I shook my head. “I love Ann Arbor.”

“Yeah, but it will still be home,” Ryan argued. “Gainesville is still home to me, but I had to do what I had to do for my career.”

“This sounds like you guys are recruiting me,” I looked from Ryan to Cullen. “Are you?”

Ryan took my face in his hands and held me to his gaze. “Kate, we need our partner in crime.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. One point for Ryan. 

We were talking a little about the meeting before turning the conversation to the latest topic in pop culture. I had to admit, I was relieved they didn’t want to talk about my comeback or what I had been doing in Hollywood. Just like that, I was welcomed back into the family.

“Oh shit, I better go,” I jumped up when I saw Rick walking over this way. “The last thing I need is a lecture with you two.”

“You love our lectures!” Cullen yelled after me as I scurried away.

As I made my way over to Rick, he handed me my cap and goggles. I grabbed them after I slipped off my warm up suit, showing off my new Adidas bathing suit I designed. It was a light grey with yellow strips along the sides and bust. It was feminine, but edgy.

“Well, that’s different,” Rick noted of my suit. 

I put my hands on my hips and pretended to model it. “It says, ‘I’m a lady who can kick your ass,’ but with style.”

Rick just rolled his eyes and pushed me toward the pool. “Get on with it, Miller.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I've been going back and forth in a mind battle — the worse kind!! Originally I was wanting to keep this story around 30 chapters, but seeing as I am nearing that and MANY more chapters to do, I realized I needed a new game plan. So, I want to keep these chapters more plot-driven, instead of stuff fluff and smut (not that that's a bad thing at all!) 
> 
> SO, what I want to do is create a new work with supplement chapters. I will let you know where they fit with the story, just for the sake of continuity. That being said, I was also curious about taking prompt requests; after all, you are my readers. And you are the reason I am writing! So, if there's any ideas or prompts for filler chapters you have floating in your minds, please leave me a comment or even get a hold of me on Tumblr (at http://carebear89.tumblr.com/) or Twitter (@care_bear89). I hope to get that going within the next few chapters!! 
> 
> Thanks again for all your support!!


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm planning to do updates every Wednesday and Saturday, if I can possibly swing both. Hope it works out!
> 
> If you can, leave a comment on your way out! Thanks!

I don’t know how I did it, but I made it through prelims and to the semi-final race in the 200 freestyle. Some called it luck while others called it talent. Rick simply called it, “don’t get ahead of yourself, Miller.” Oh, Rick. 

After coming in ninth out of eighteen overall, I went back to my hotel room for lunch and a nap. The semi-final race for the 200 freestyle final would be tonight and I wasn’t sure if I was going to make it or not. The semi-finals saw a pretty talented field, not to mention all but two of the racers were younger than me. 

After my nap, I had, yes, another tiny meal before flipping on the television. I was in the middle of an episode of Friends when Britt texted me: _I’m coming to your race tonight. Come to the pool early so we can talk._

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. I love Britt, but she knows how crazy I get when I race. I don’t really want to talk about her upcoming schedule or work-related problems. I need to focus on me. Of course, I would never tell her any of that. Instead, I texted my reply to let her know I would be leaving my nearby hotel in the next ten minutes. 

I grabbed my knee-high racing suit, an extra towel and a change of clothes, zipped up my swimming bag and called Rick to tell him I was leaving early for the pool to see Britt. After promising to be warmed up before 4, I made my way to the pool via the hotel shuttle.

After arriving to the swimming complex, I called Britt. She picked up on the second ring. 

“Are you here?”

“Yes. Where are you?”

“We’re sitting at the top of the south bleachers, right across from the time board.”

“We?” Great, that was halfway across from where I was. So much for resting my legs. “Okay, I’ll walk over that way.”

There was silence and then what sounded like muffled talking, like Britt was holding her hand over the phone. “Okay. Good.”

“Are you okay?”

“I have a surprise for you.”

“Is it a Segway? Or a horse? My swim bag is heavy.”

“No, no, it’s much better than all of that.” I could tell her smile was wide just by the way she talked. “Although, a Segway would be pretty cool.”

I kept talking to Britt as I made my way to where they were seated. As I neared the stairway, Britt hung up. I thought maybe the call was dropped since I was in a tunnel, but after closely inspecting my screen, I deduced she definitely cancelled the call. 

“Hello, darling,” I heard a smooth voice call from just in front of me. Startled, I jumped back at the voice and snapped my eyes up to the person who clearly violated my personal space. I was about ready to bite a head off, but instead, gasped when I saw Tom in front of me. 

“What the hell? What are you doing here?” I went from feeling a little blue to the happiest person in the world, all in three seconds. I practically jumped into Tom’s arms, wrapping my arms around his neck, hugging him close to me. 

“I thought it would be fun to surprise you,” he said, arms tightly wrapped around my waist and head resting against my own. “And it was!”

“This has Brittney written all over it,” I said once we parted.

“I did request her help, once I knew I would be coming out to L.A. for a couple days,” he said, taking my hand in his, lacing our fingers together. “She was very willing to help.”

“She would,” I said rolling my eyes. “Shall we go sit with the prodigal sister?”

I went to lead Tom up the stairs, but he pulled me back slightly. “Before we do that, I have to give you something.” Tom reached into his pocket — silencing my protests with his index finger on my lips — and pulled put a small cream-colored velvet box. 

My heart began to race — and very quickly I might add. While I really liked Tom and enjoyed out time together, I wasn’t ready for a proposal, or whatever this was. 

“Do you remember the other night, when you told me you weren’t going to make the team? And you would need a good luck charm?” Tom asked.

“Yes,” I responded in a slow voice. 

“Well, I have found your lucky charm.” He opened the box, revealing a thin sterling silver chain with a small, dainty charm on the end. Upon closer inspection, I found it to be a tiny fortune cookie. “I was looking for a four leaf clover, but found the fortune cookie instead. I thought it fit your personality better.”

I laughed. “It does. It’s beautiful, Tom. Really.” Tom took the necklace out from its box and fastened it around my neck. The charm rested just below my clavicle, next to a tiny freckle. “I love it.” I leaned up to Tom and pressed my lips against his and gave him a kiss, which he happily returned. 

We exchanged a few more kisses before climbing the rest of the stairs of the stands. Tom led me over to where my sister, mom and even brother were camped out on the top bench of the section. “You sneak,” I yelled to Brittney once I was closer. She just laughed and clapped her hands together, like the evil genius she is. 

After I gave her and my mom a hug, I fully realized that this was the first time Tom was meeting my mom. _Well there goes my blood pressure._

“I didn’t expect everyone to be here,” I said as I took my seat, between my mom and Tom, our hands still threaded together. Seeing the whole family together made me sad that my dad wasn’t here. Swimming trips across the country were hard for my dad to attend, since it was hard for him to get away from work. No matter. He’s always attended the events that meant the most to me. This one really wasn’t one of them. 

“We’re here for your ‘comeback,’” Zach said, actually using air quotes around “comeback.”

I made a scoffing sound, but was soon cut off by my mother. “Now don’t start with that, Kate,” she patted my hand and turned her attention to Tom. “Now, Tom was telling us more about an audition.”

My eyes widened with surprise. He didn’t mention anything about an audition to me, but then again, our conversations didn’t revolve around our work. “What’s it for?”

“It’s for that Martin Scorsese film, the one he told us about at the BAFTA after party?”

“I thought you said he went for someone else?”

“I guess he took a break from casting in order to write an additional part,” Tom said, his face lighting up as he talked about the role he read for. “He wanted to meet actors in person for this round, so I think he will be making a decision soon.”

“I bet Leo will be attached to it. I’ve heard Michael Fassbender may reading for a part, too,” Brittney offered. I saw a small smile play on her lips, but I quickly turned my attention back to Tom. 

“That’s so great. You’ll nail it,” I said. I wanted to tell him that I had a feeling he was going to get it — especially since Martin kept raving over Tom — but I knew he was a tad bit superstitious when it came to getting a part. I couldn’t hate on that; I’m the same way when it comes to my swimming. 

We talked more about upcoming roles for both Tom and Britt, much to my mother’s delight. She always loved hearing about Brittney’s projects and auditions. Britt says it’s because Mom wanted to be an actress when she was younger, so she’s living the experience through her, but I knew it was because she wanted the best for her daughter. And the fact that she found Britt’s process of auditioning, selecting and preparation of a role simply fascinating. 

I could tell my mom really enjoyed talking with Tom and getting to know him more, outside of my brief phone conversations about him. I wanted it to continue, but I had to get down to the pool deck and begin my very own superstitious regimen. 

Everyone wished me good luck as I got up from my spot on the bleacher, taking my bag from Tom. “Good luck, darling,” he whispered so no one else could hear, placing an airy kiss to my cheek. 

“I’ll come with you, Kate,” my mom said after I took two steps down. “I need to talk to Rick anyways.”

We went down the remaining steps and through the same tunnel Tom and I shared our quiet moment before my mom said anything. 

“I really like him, Kate,” she said, putting my arm through hers. She had always done that with me since I was a kid. Even though I was much older and eight inches taller than her, the simple gesture made me feel like her little girl. “He’s handsome, smart, charming, witty and very quick. He’s the perfect person to take you on,”

“Thanks, Mommy,” I let out a soft sigh, one of happiness. “I really like him. I can’t deny it.”

“Good. Because if you didn’t, I would have to have you committed.” We both laughed. “It’s about time you have a winner.”

“Yeah, it is.”

We made it to the edge of the deck and stopped, turning to each other. My mom grabbed my by my arms and gave them a squeeze. “My little girl.” She tapped my nose with her index finger, causing me to giggle — just like old times. “Now, go make that team.”


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's still Saturday here in MST, but probably not where most of you are reading this from — sorry! I literally shopped 'till I dropped today! ;) 
> 
> Without further ado...Chapter 30!!!

Well, I made it through the semi-finals. Thank god — how embarrassing would it have been to lose in front of your boyfriend? Especially since this is the first time he’s seeing you swim in person. Humiliating, that’s what it would have been. 

The top eight fastest swimmers earned a spot in the final race, to be held the next night. I took sixth place, surprising not only myself, but also Rick. Rick, never one to get overly emotional, just shook his head at me, trying hard to suppress a smile. “That’ll work, Miller.”

After putting up a brave fight, we celebrated the “win” at my favorite Chinese restaurant in Long Beach, Brittney’s treat. I was hesitant to celebrate the win, especially since I hadn’t really made the team yet, but there’s no listening to my sister. 

After dinner, Tom took me back to my hotel room, unable to stay much longer than an hour since he had to make his flight back to London. High Rise was doing some re-shoots this and next week, then Tom would begin focusing on I Saw the Light. 

“Thanks for being here, Tom,” I told him in our goodbye hug. “It really means a lot to me.”

“You’ve been there so much for me already, Kate,” he said, his hands warm against the small of my back. I didn’t want this hug to end. “And I look forward to all of the swimming meets in my future.”

Under any other circumstance, I would be up all night analyzing my day with my boyfriend. However, between the intense racing, shorter than usual afternoon nap and pressure of making the team, I quickly fell asleep. I was able to sleep in later than normal, since I didn’t have any morning races. When I did wake up, I found a text on my phone from Tom. 

_Good morning, darling. Hope your bags area packed and ready for Australia. Good luck!_

I quickly replied a witty “thanks” before beginning my morning pre-final race ritual: lunch, some light stretching, a nap (which was more or less me watching TV) and a small snack before I headed to the pool. Rick was already in our usual spot since other swimmers had morning swims. Judging by the gum wrappers littered on the ground around him, I could already tell this was a stressful day. 

“Wow, you’re already on the Juicy Fruit,” I said, picking up the package of gum, two sticks left. “Do you eat this stuff?”

Rick took the package from me and put it in his pocket. “Don’t tease me. I’ve estimated I’ve chewed ten thousand packets during your career.”

I rolled my eyes and laughed. “Oh, whatever.” I set down my bag in Club Wolverine’s area and took out my cap and goggles. “I’m going to warm up.”

“A wonderful plan. Be back here in an hour. And stay loose!” 

I rolled my eyes at Rick. I’ve been swimming competitively for 20 years now, of course I knew to stay loose. I went over to the warm up pool and secured my goggles over my eyes before throwing my curly hair up into a tight bun and pulling my swim cap on. Once everything was secure and felt right — another superstition — I jumped in the water and began warming up. 

I warmed up for thirty minutes before I felt really good. Then I got out and did some stretching. I was in the middle of some basic yoga pose my friend, and fellow swimmer, Natalie Coughlin, showed me when Ryan joined me. 

“How come you didn’t introduce me to Tom?” he asked in place of a “hello.” He sat down next to me and began focusing on his legs. 

“Baby steps, my friend. He just met my mom; I didn’t want to overwhelm him,” I said, chuckling at his puppy dog pout. “Besides, you’re my coolest friend. You’ll be the first one to meet him.”

“Well, that I get.” Ryan stopped stretching and pulled his legs closer to him. “You nervous?”

I thought about not answering the question, but knew Ryan cared and wanted to help. “I’m more nervous about the outcome. If I don’t make the team, I’m worried about what everyone will say. Then, if I do make the team, there’s only going to be that much more I need to prove.”

“I really think you’re putting to much pressure on yourself,” he said. “You’ve never been like this. You just go out there and swim. I’ve never known you to give a flying rat’s ass about what people think.”

Where did that phrase even come from? Why is a rat’s ass flying? I shook my head of the thought. “You’re right, I am putting too much pressure on myself. I just feel like I’m being so closely analyzed. Like all eyes are on me.”

Ryan just shrugged his shoulders. “Haven’t they always been? I mean, you’re probably the biggest name in swimming. I really think you’re more popular than Phelps, too.”

“Oh, great.”

“You know what I mean,” Ryan said with a laugh. “You’ve always been closely watched and never had an issue performing. So why is this any different?” I didn’t say anything, mainly since I didn’t have an answer. “Do you think it’s because of Tom?”

“Maybe. Maybe subconsciously, I have this fear of not doing well and him laughing at me, or something,” I turned to Ryan and looked to him for help. I hoped he would tell me that I was crazy or over analyzing the situation.

“That could be, but I don’t buy into all that psychology stuff,” he lazily responded, laying down on the mats we were sitting on. “I don’t know the guy — you know, since someone didn’t introduce me — but I think he would be nothing short of supportive. I think your problem is you, my dear.” 

He was right. Ryan was _so_ right. When did he get so smart?

“Can we talk about something that no one is talking about?” he asked.

“What?”

“Girl, that suit is _fine,_ ” he did a snap with his fingers, causing me to laugh. “When I design my own clothing line, I am definitely getting tips from you.” 

I looked down at my racing suit and smiled. It was a plain black tank racing suit that cut off above my knees — the plain black was an Adidas staple. Along the sides were the iconic lines, but in pink instead of white. There was also pink trim along the suit. 

“Who knew this would be something I was good at, right?” 

Cullen soon joined us on the mats, telling us some jokes and catching me up on some swimming gossip. The two of them got me laughing so hard, it was like another work out. For the next half an hour, they put my mind at ease, probably one of their greatest talents. I was about to tell them a story of a day on set from Mockingjay when I was interrupted. 

“Oh, look. The three amigos, how shocking,” Rick said, shaking his head. “Let’s go, Miller. Your race is coming up.”

I got up and high-fived the boys before joining Rick. He led me down the deck and into the line up, where the other girls in the final race were standing. He turned to me and held my head between his hands, something he hadn’t done in years. “Don’t worry about anything,” he said. “It’s just you and the water. Nothing else matters.”

Those were just the words I needed to hear.


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a long one! Not a whole lot of Tom though :/

For the first time in nearly 18 months, I felt like I was back to my old self. I was racing, doing well and feeling good about my work. I sat with Rick in the little café downtown Gold Coast, Australia, and celebrated my win with a nice lunch out. Well, somewhat. 

I took second place in the 200 freestyle at Nationals, just two weeks prior. Of course, sporting publications made note that this was the first time in 13 years I hadn’t placed first in the 200 free in competition. But considering that the person who won was half a second off the world record — my world record — and I stuck with her up until the end, I was pretty happy. Besides, second place was good enough to earn me a spot on the team. 

However, the race at Pan Pacs was a different story. 

Rick and I didn’t expect much, especially since my competition would be well-prepared, having trained consistently since the 2012 Olympics. I easily made it out of the preliminary round, struggled in the semi-final round (but made it), and — to put it nicely — tanked in the final round. I can still remember the ass of a commentator approaching me, putting his clammy hand on my shoulder and asking me that horrid question. 

_“What did you do wrong that ended you up in sixth place?”_

I wanted to punch his fucking mouth off.

 _“Well, considering that I’ve been out of heavy competition for two years, I don’t think sixth in the world is so bad,” I responded, giving him my best glare._

Both Rick and I loved retelling the story. Rick, who was just a few feet away from me, was afraid he was going to have to peel me off of him, so he quickly ended the interview saying I needed to warm down and do a steroid test. Now we just laughed it off. 

“Apart from that guy, everyone else is really happy with your performance,” Rick said, accepting a second iced tea from the waitress. “Are you happy with it?”

“I can live with it, which is a win in itself,” I responded. “I fell apart at the 150-meter mark and I know I could have done better. But I fought hard and am proud of that.”

“Me too, kiddo.”

As we ate in silence, I thought back to later that night, when I got back to my hotel room. 

_“Kate, you got a gift,” my roommate told me as we passed in the hall. She was on her way to get dinner while I decided to order in and call it a night. I was wiped._

_“Thanks,” I called after her. I hurried down the hall and into the room, stopping in my tracks when I saw the large, colorful Chinese container and an orchid on top. “What the world?”_

_I opened the tiny card that was under the orchid and smiled when I saw the note inside:_ “Our doubts are traitors and make us lose the good we oft might win by fearing to attempt.” I’m so proud of you, my love. 

_My love? God, my smile was so big. I set the card and flower aside before opening the Chinese box, revealing a large amount of chocolate dipped fortune cookies. I just laughed, fingering my necklace from Tom. Apparently fortune cookies were going to be our thing._

_I looked at the clock, noting it was just after 8 p.m. here. It was August 21 here, but August 20 in the States (I thought), so Tom would already be in Nashville, working with a singer for I Saw the Light. And if I was correct in my math, it would be after 6 a.m., so Tom should be up. I hoped._

_I decided to take the chance and call him. He picked up on the second ring, bright eyed._

_“I thought you would be in bed by now,” he said, that silky smooth voice instantly putting me at ease._

_“I could say the same about you. Why are you up to early?”_

_“I’ve been up since your race, about three a.m. here in the States,” he said._

_“You watched the live stream? I think that’s a first for any of my boyfriends.”_

_“I’ve been told I break the mold, darling.”_

_I just rolled my eyes. I took a cookie out of the box and sat on my bed. “I love my gift. I’m digging in already.”_

_“Good, I’m glad. I was going to have the salesgirl write on the card “Number six in the pool, but number one in my heart,” but I thought that would be too cheesy.”_

_I just about spit my cookie out laughing. “Yes, very. But it still would have been adorable. But Shakespeare was a good choice, too.”_

_“When in doubt, Shakes it out.”_

_“Oh my god, you are in rare form tonight.”_

_He laughed his heartfelt, yet cheesy laugh. I tell you, I could be in the worst mood, but when I hear that laugh, I can’t help but smile._

_“So, what does your day have in store?”_

_“Well, I got back from a run and am finishing breakfast now,” I heard him say while chewing said breakfast. “Then do some singing rehearsals, work on lines, try on some costumes, do more singing. Maybe running some more; I have to lose some weight for the role.”_

_“How much?”_

_“Like twenty pounds.”_

_I dropped the second cookie I was holding, attempting to release it from its wrapper as silently as I could. “Twenty pounds? Jesus, Tom. You don’t have that much fat to lose; that’s going to be a lot of your muscle.”_

_“Hank was really thin and gaunt, so I need to emulate that,” he answered. “This is the only way I know how.”_

_“Try swimming. It burns more calories than running, and you’ll keep your muscle tone.”_

_“Yeah?”_

_“Yep,” I said, still wrestling with my wrapper. “I would start out swimming half a mile a day, then build up to a mile. And keep doing a two thousand calorie diet. And if that’s not working — only if it’s not working — go down to eighteen hundred calories.”_

_“I’ll try it. Besides, I’m tired of running in the morning rain here.”_

_“If you go down to Vanderbilt University’s pool, ask for Kevin and tell him I sent you there. He owes me a favor anyways.”_

_“And with your guidance, can I expect a gold medal in my future?”_

_“Stick with me, baby. You’ll be going for the gold.”_

_Tom broke out in another hearty laugh. “Now who’s cheesy?”_

After Rick and I finished our meals, I was prepared to leave and do some light shopping. Rick, however, waved the waitress over and asked for a dessert menu. I stopped in my tracks, hovering over my chair. “Uh oh.”

“Uh oh what?”

“You never order dessert when we go out,” I sat down and narrowed my eyes at him. “In fact, the last time we ordered dessert was when you told me I couldn’t go to North Carolina for a Grand Prix meet since I was behind on my homework. That was when I was 16.”

Rick rolled his eyes. “Kate, I think we’ve ordered dessert since then.”

“What’s going on?”

He looked over the menu slowly before deciding on a hot fudge Sunday. Then he looked at me. “Kate?”

I glared at him before quickly answering, “molten lava cake.” The waitress wrote the order down and took the menu from Rick, leaving us alone once again. “Rick?”

He huffed out a breath. “I guess you can’t wait until after dessert, huh?” I shook my head. He just smirked. “I’ve been offered a position as head coach.”

“At Michigan?” I optimistically asked. Rick was the head coach for the girls team, while Mike Bottom was head coach for the boys and post-college swimming program, made of other swimmers like me: Olympic hopefuls and nationally ranked swimmers. Rick assisted with the elite swimming program, but I could tell it bothered him. When I was younger, he oversaw not one but two clubs in southwest Michigan, both the top contending programs in the state. While he loved teaching collegiate athletes, I could tell he wanted more.

“No, not Michigan,” he paused, somewhat dramatically, if I might add. “California. Fullerton, to be exact.”

Holy shit — _Fullerton?_ Talk about the elite of the elite. You couldn’t just show up there, you had to be invited to swim there. (Of course, I had been invited before. Seven years ago, if you wanted to know.)

“And?”

“I wanted to talk to you about it first, but I am thinking of accepting it,” he said. “Kate, this is a great opportunity. It will give me a lot of experience that will make me a better coach.”

Our desserts arrived and Rick dug right in. I just stared at my lava cake, watching the chocolate syrup ooze out from a hole I poked into it. Rick continued to talk.

“I think Fullerton will also give you the focus you need. Other elite athletes that will light a fire under you; give you the edge you need.”

“But Ann Arbor —” I started, but Rick cut me off.

“Will always be home,” he put down his spoon and stared at me. “Kate, I need to ask you something and you’re not going to like it. What are your plans after the Olympics?” 

I just shrugged. “I’ve thought about retiring; moving on to something else.”

“Exactly,” he picked his spoon back up. “This situation is only temporary for you. After the Olympics, you could go back to Ann Arbor. Or Chicago. Or London for that matter. You’re not bound to me and Fullerton once you’re retired.”

I cocked my head. “Why did you say London?”

Rick looked up to me and shrugged. “It’s just a city I thought of, no reason.”

I know Rick better than that. He brought up London because of Tom. The two had briefly met when Tom spent the day with my family at Nationals. Rick seemed indifferent, but that’s probably because he’s upset with me dating so close to the Olympics…again.

“What do you think?” he asked. “You haven’t even taken a bite of your cake Are you feeling okay?”

“I just think this will be more of a distraction,” I offered. “More media. More paparazzi. Brittney — that’s the biggest distraction of them all. Plus I’d have to drive to the pool instead of walk two blocks.”

“Not if you live in the complex,” Rick smiled. I rolled my eyes. Total Dad joke. “They’re only distractions if you let them be. Stay away from the paparazzi hot spots. Don’t get in trouble. And talk to your sister. She will understand.”

“I guess you’re right.”

I stared at my cake for a little while longer. The chocolate syrup was hardening, the cake cooling off. This was probably the happiest I’ve seen Rick in years. I could tell he really wanted this position. And he was right, this would be only temporary. Should I decide to retire, I could go back home to Ann Arbor. Or London. _Whoa, where did that thought come from?_

I took a good look at Rick. His silvery-brown hair was slightly blowing in the warm wind and he had a smile on his sunburned face; an actual smile, even while eating his ice cream. Who does that?

“This isn’t a midlife crisis, right? Like, we’re not going to get there and you realize you don’t like it?” I asked. Rick just turned 55. I wanted to make sure he wasn’t having any second guesses. 

“Kate,” he gave me in his warning tone. Well, I guess he’s serious then.

I picked up my fork and sliced it through my cake. As I put it to my lips, I decided to give Rick my answer: “Well, looks like we’re going to California.”


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short one...sorry!

The next few weeks flew by. They would when you’re busier than a termite in a logging factory. Sorry, that’s just something my grandfather says.

Right after we got back from Australia, I told my family and close friends I would be relocating to California. My friends in Michigan were all really happy for me — with the promise of throwing huge going away party — while my family, not so much. Of course, Brittney was ecstatic and insisted I live with her, since Beverly Hills was thirty miles from Fullerton. Who knows how long the drive will actually be. My parents, on the other hand, were sad. I was their third child to leave the state. 

“I understand. It’s just going to take some time to adjust,” my mom, on the verge of tears, told me. I told her to knock it off. She visits Britt all the time; now she can visit both of us at once. 

Then came the packing, which was a chore in itself. You try packing up a house full of awards and memorabilia. Whatever I couldn’t store at my parents’ place, I either donated to the local Salvation Army or gave to some friends. I have to admit, packing was much more fun with the help of Jennifer, who flew all the way from L.A. to help. She said she needed a break from Hollywood and wanted to help a friend, but I could tell she was also excited about my move to California. 

Since Britt already had furniture in my new bedroom, I didn’t have to bring any bulky items. I will just take my clothes, shoes, some awards, photos, some bedding and blankets and, of course, my two cats: Canham and Nat, both named after Canham Natatorium in Ann Arbor, where I found them. Brittney said no, but I told her to shut up. They’re family.

Rick was already in Fullerton, setting up a place to live for him and his wife. His son, Max, was in college at Northwestern, while his daughter, Emily, was in some college in Montana. (I can never remember which one.) I would be heading out that way early November with my grandpa in tow. No one wanted me to drive alone, but no one could get away from work, except for my Papouli. Plus, something tells me he never got to go on many road trips as a young man. That whole strict-Greek-parents thing.

I even got to see Tom in September, when he performed in Remus, Michigan, about two hours away. Although, it wasn’t so much as “saw” Tom as it was “I saw him sing (which was amazing), I gave him a kiss (also amazing) and I watched him talk to other people the whole night (slightly boring).” It was still nice though, to see those kind eyes and large smile in person and have him hold my hand, even if it was for ten minutes. 

At the beginning of October, after Michael Phelps’ second DUI was all everyone could talk about, my news about the move broke. For the most part, everyone was supportive and well wishing. I even got an “I told you so” text from both Cullen and Ryan. However, there was one negative person about it, a very loud one to boot. 

I was doing what I was always doing: packing a few items after my first practice of the day. I figured the little bit I did each day made the process go faster. It was then when I got a call from Rick.

“Hey, my kitchen is almost all packed up. Then I will work on the living room,” I told him, waiting for my accolade. 

“That’s great. Kate, have you been online recently?”

“Um, no not yet. Why?”

“Sports Illustrated. Tom King. He’s an asshole.”

It’s not like Rick to willy-nilly call people an asshole. I dropped the spatulas I was holding and ran over to my laptop on the couch. I typed my name in Google and was horrified at what I saw. 

“King: Miller should call it quits”

“What the fuck?” P.S. This was the first time ever that I said a curse word in front of Rick. That’s how mad I was. 

Tom King didn’t hold back. He gave me a verbal beating, essentially saying how I had turned my back on the sport that had given me everything. 

_“Her poor performance at Pan Pacs is just one shining example of her lack of dedication to her Olympic comeback,” he wrote. “Miller is more concerned with her newly found career in Hollywood and egotistical friends than the pool.”_

“Damn it! It’s not a comeback!” I yelled for the thousandth time.

_“I predict her new switch to Fullerton will be anything but successful,” he continued. “Relocating to a world full of liars, cheats, fakes and burn outs will no doubt help Miller’s career plummet. But of course, she’s been doing that on her own.”_

“What an asshole,” I agreed. 

“Did you get to the end?”

That’s when my stomach twisted. He brought Tom into it.

_“My advice to Miller: get serious and swim. And stop gallivanting around with your British boyfriend. Maybe if you weren’t following him — an actor, of course — around the world, being ‘chased’ by the media you ‘don’t want,’ your focus would be on track.”_

_“Don’t give up, I truly mean that. But then again, at this point, maybe that’s your best option.”_

“Kate, don’t pay him any attention,” Rick said once I was done reading.

“Don’t pay him any attention?! What the fuck am I supposed to do? You called me and made me read it.”

“I just want you to be prepared for any questions that come your way because of this,” he softly said. “Kate, I’m sorry you have to see this.”

“He’s just one asshole with a stupid view, right?” I tried to say as calmly as possible, trying not to focus on my hands that were shaking. “It’s nothing. I mean, what does he know about swimming?”

“Exactly. Nothing.”

After calming me down — or so he thought — Rick and I hung up and I went back to packing. Although, it wasn’t packing anymore; it was more like pace in my living room and yell at things. 

I glanced up at the clock and saw that it was only 1:13 p.m. Yeah, this wasn’t going to be a long day at all. End sarcasm.


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thanksgiving to those who celebrate! If you need me, I'll be busy stuffing my face!  
> [and I've never been to Shreveport, so any depictions I give are just figments of my imagination. ;) ]

I’ve never understood weather. I mean, it’s currently snowing in most of the Midwest while in Louisiana it’s in the 80s and muggy as hell. Like shouldn’t everyone in the country have to suffer the same weather? That way we all have something to talk about. 

I should have known Shreveport was a different world since the airport only had three terminals and when airplane landed on the tarmac, we all had to walk to our gate. Oh well, life is full of experiences and this was just another one, I suppose. 

I quickly spotted Tom at the end of the terminals, head and shoulders above everyone else, blending into the crowd — as best as he could — with jeans and a blue t-shirt. It wasn’t even two hours after the article hit the World Wide Web when Tom called. He didn’t even tip-toe around the subject, he just outright told me to ignore the “bloody twit” who doesn’t know the first thing about swimming and should just “bugger off.” _Uh, dear, your British is showing._

Tom also insisted I come down to Louisiana for an extended weekend, saying it was not only a belated birthday gift, but that I needed a break. I resisted, saying I needed to train and finishing packing, but he rallied. He even called Rick and told him his idea. 

“I think you should go,” Rick said. “This weekend. Take a few days off. Well, swim while you’re there, but take it easy.”

“Why are you on his side? You should be telling me no and that I should stay here.”

“Who are you, Rapunzel? I can’t force you to stay anywhere. Lord knows I’ve learned that after years of coaching you,” he laughed. “And Tom and I agreed you need a distraction. Yes, I said distraction. Get this Tom King guy out of your head.” I didn’t respond. “I know you’ve been thinking about it non-stop.”

I told Rick I would think about it, but as soon as I hung up, I wanted to slap myself. _My boyfriend — who I hardly ever see and is currently in the same time zone as me — wants me to come visit him. And I’m debating this why? Have I lost my mind? Clearly!_

The whole inner-debate was so stupid, especially when Tom pulled me to him, protectively wrapping his arms around me. “Hello, my love.”

“It’s so good to see you,” I said, his aroma tickling my nose and automatically putting me at ease. My blood pressure instantly went down and I started to feel those familiar butterflies in my stomach. “I’m glad you came up with this idea.”

“Ditto.” He kissed the top of my head and took my carry on bag from me. We walked out of the airport — a whole flight of steps — hand in hand, while talking about my flight. He led me over to his car, a Jaguar, no surprise. 

“Does spokes company loan you cars while you’re out on locations?” I asked, watching him put my bag in the trunk.

“Yes, they are very good to us villains,” he laughed.

“Well, sign me up to be a villain then.”

Tom rounded the side of the car and opened the passenger door for me. Before helping me in, he leaned against the door and gave a sinister smile. “We can do bad things together.”

I gave a small smile and got in the car. Once we were in the car, I asked him about the weather. “It’s ten at night and still 87 degrees — is this normal?”

“The locals tell me yes, but this is an unusually warm autumn,” he responded. “Would you rather have your snow?”

“Then we build a blanket fort and be snow bunnies.” Tom just smirked at me. 

We drove silently to Tom’s apartment the production studio put him up in, Tom concentrating on the traffic — which was a surprising amount for the town of Shreveport — and I trying to stay awake. I slept three hours last night — worrying, packing for my trip and worrying some more — and got up early to swim before I began my day of flying. Apparently Detroit doesn’t do a direct connection to Shreveport. Word to the wise, Detroit to Nashville to Baton Rouge to Shreveport is just too long of a day.

Tom pulled up to the complex, which looked to be relatively new. His apartment was up two flights of stairs and all the way to the back. He told me other actors and crew from the film had apartments in the complex, which was primarily used for filming projects. Shreveport was apparently a very popular place. 

“This is a nice apartment,” I said, walking around the living room and kitchen. Tom said he had only been in the apartment for a week, but his scent already filled the space. _God, Kate. You are so pathetic — now you’re talking about his smell?! You used to make fun of those girls._

“I’ve been told Jude Law and Johnny Depp have stayed in this very same apartment.”

“Oh wow, a boarding house for Oscar nominees,” I turned to Tom and smiled. “And a future Oscar winner.” Tom just shook his head. He’s almost as good as me about accepting compliments. I took his hands into mine and laced my fingers through his. “I’m serious. You’re a fantastic actor. And you’ve been putting a lot of work into this role; it already shows.”

He kissed my hands and held them to his chest. “Thank you, darling.”

“I know I just got here, but is it rude to ask to go to bed?”

Tom gave a soft laugh and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. “Not at all, Sleeping Beauty.” _What was with all the princess names in the last 48 hours?_ “Go ahead to bed. I’ll be right in after I check my emails.”

I took my bag into Tom’s room and was taken back at how warm the room was. I took the liberty of opening the window near the bed, letting in a cooler breeze. It would do. I took a few breaths of the cooler air before changing out of my jeans and grey t-shirt to my pink tank top. Then I realized I forgot to pack pajama pants. “Great.” 

I looked down to what I was wearing: my polka dot boy short underwear. Well, it would just have to do until I could buy shorts tomorrow.

I quickly washed my face and brushed my teeth before sliding into bed. I was in the middle of pulling my hair up into a twist when Tom came in the room. “I opened the window. It was so hot in here.”

“Yeah, it gets really stuffy in here quick,” he replied, shedding his shirt and throwing it in a nearby basket. Even though he was more slender than the last time I saw him shirtless, his muscles in his back and arms were still defined. Swimming for the win!

Tom was quick in the bathroom, brushing his teeth and — dare I say it — fixing his hair? He got into bed just in his boxers, obviously hot as well. Seriously, doesn’t this “new” place have AC? Even after turning out the light, the room was lit up by a few streetlights and the shine of the moon, casting an amber-like glow in the room. 

“Kate? Are you?” Tom asked after he pulled me closer to him, my butt resting against his thighs.

“Just wearing underwear? Yeah. I forgot pants.” I turned my head over my shoulder and smiled. “That’s not a problem, is it?”

I thought I heard a low groan, but he didn’t say anything. Instead he shifted his body so it was somewhat turned away from me. I’m not an idiot, I know what that means.

After a few minutes of silence, I turned over and faced Tom, noting that he was still wide-awake, staring at the ceiling. “I didn’t kiss you at the airport,” I whispered. 

“I can’t kiss you while you’re sans pants,” he said with a small smile. 

I just smiled back and pressed a kiss to his cheek. I quickly fell asleep, safely tucked in Tom’s arm.


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some more teasing ahead...sorry!! :/

I can’t remember the last time I woke up with without an alarm. This truly was a vacation! 

I assumed — by the dull light in the room — that it was early morning, just after sunrise. Tom was laying on top of the covers, his boxer shorts riding low on his body; the “V” of his hips showing. This was clearly payback from my lack of pants. 

Since my internal clock would no longer let me sleep, I decided to get up and make food. Or at least coffee. As steady as I could, I crawled out from underneath the bed sheet, over Tom, and padded across the room and into the kitchen. I couldn’t find any coffee in Tom’s kitchen, just tea. Big shock there. So I got some water and sat on the counter, waiting for it to boil in the electric kettle. 

“It’s five in the morning, what on earth are you doing up?” Tom asked in his sleep-ridden voice. His brownish locks were sticking up all over the place, making me think back to one of the selfies he sent me on Snap Chat a few weeks ago. 

“I’m making tea!” I said in a way too chipper voice. “This is about the time I get up every day to swim. I just couldn’t sleep anymore.”

“While I am happy to hear of your sudden enthusiasm for tea, I still say it’s too early,” Tom said, walking over to me and setting his hands next to me on the counter. I just smiled at him. I do that a lot now.

“So tell me, what do you have in store for us today?” I did remember Tom telling me he had nothing planned for today. It was a day of rest before filming officially started tomorrow.

“Hm. I thought maybe just lounging around, watching the telly,” he said, moving his from the counter to my legs. Tom’s fingers were gently tracing along my legs, starting at the knees and working their way to my thighs. I felt my pulse pick up, those damn butterflies starting to swarm in my belly once again. “Maybe go to lunch — or we could order in. Take a nap, especially since we’re up with the sunrise.”

“That all sounds wonderful,” I whispered against his lips. He ran the tip of his tongue over his lips before pressing them to mine. My eyes fluttered closed as our lips melted together. The dial was then soon turned up. I rested my hands on Tom’s shoulders as he pushed me up against the cabinets, his kisses growing more fervent. Our tongues battled for dominance as Tom’s hand continued up to my waist, his fingers skimming over the band of my underwear. 

I don’t know how long this continued. Time was completely lost on us. It was only until the kettle whistled that I realized where I was: on Tom’s kitchen counter with no pants. I pulled away first in order to catch my breath, resting my forehead against my boyfriend’s. “I have to fit swimming in there somewhere.”

“Tell you what,” Tom spoke as he poured the hot water into two mugs. “The health and science center down the road has a pool that they’ve been gracious enough to let me use. I can drop you off on my way to the store to pick up stuff for our lazy day.”

“Sounds perfect,” I leaned back against the cabinets with another stupid grin on my face. I watched Tom put tea bags in our mugs, dipping them up and down before turning back to me.

“What?” 

I shook my head. “Nothing. I’m just thinking about how great you are.”

Tom gave me a weird look, followed by a chuckle. He put his lips back on mine for a tender, sweet kiss; the perfect kiss, really. His soft lips enveloping mine, his hands cradling my face and breath tickling my cheeks. This time, he was the first one to pull away, a little out of breath I might add. 

“Okay. I need to figure out what to buy at the store.”

“Okay,” I responded while hopping down from the counter, grabbing my mug of tea. “I’ll go get ready while you make your little list.” I placed a quick kiss to his lips before strutting back to the bedroom, feeling his eyes on my behind the whole way. 

“I’m going to put pants on my list!”

About an hour later, Tom dropped me off at the pool while he went to the grocery store up the street and ran some other errands. I talked to the guy at the front desk, explaining that I needed the pool for a quick practice session. Not really seeming to care, he waved me through the double set of doors, mumbling that the pool was “that way.” Real helpful, pal. 

I don’t know if it had anything to due with the fact that it was seven in the morning, but the pool was empty. Actually, the whole complex seemed empty; my footsteps echoing off the walls in the creepiest way possible. I quickly walked down the hall and stopped when I saw a sign for the locker rooms, with the strong smell of chlorine just on the other side of the wall. 

I hurried and changed, folding my clothes and placing them on the shelf of a locker and stuffing my bag inside before locking the door with my padlock I always carried in my bag, just in case. I tucked my towel under my arm and walked toward the steel door on the opposite side of the wall. I propped it open with the wooden wedge that was left nearby and walked on deck, my Adidas flip flops making their distinct noise against the tile. 

I’ll admit it, the pool was very nice: Olympic-sized, crystal clear water and a beautiful mural on the opposite wall. The north facing wall was all glass, allowing scientists to watch the people in the water. If it was anything like the other science centers I’ve been in, the sides of the pool were all glass as well. However, unlike all the other pools I’ve trained in, this one was very, very cold. The air wasn’t heated and I doubt the pool was kept at the standard 75 degrees. Suddenly I regretted wearing my two-piece bathing suit. 

I dove into the pool — which was freezing, by the way — and began warming up. I did a few laps up and down before working on the training sets Rick told me to do: sixteen 100-meter races with emphasis on my pulls. Next week I would be focusing on my kicks, which would no doubt be a killer. 

After my pulls, I warmed down with a 400-meter freestyle, using my arms — which were on fire — as little as possible, focusing on my legs. After that, I got out of the pool and laid my town on the deck and did some light stretching. Once I was sure the lactic acid and my heart rate were at their normal levels, I got up from my towel, dried off and headed to the locker room. I glanced up at the clock and noticed it was almost nine; Tom should be back soon. 

Before getting into my locker, I stopped at the mirror by the door. I had been swimming full-time now for five months now, so my racing body was starting to come back. My then curvy stomach was flatter and my abs were more noticeable. My breasts were, well, smaller; “deflated” as Britt liked to joke. Both my legs and arms were more toned and, sadly, my somewhat broad shoulders were also more defined. I was in the middle of looking at my ass (yes, it’s a thing we girls do) when I heard a loud banging. 

After my heart rate returned, I decided to investigate where the sound came from. I opened the locker room door and peaked my head out, not seeing anyone in the halls. I tiptoed down the hall and peaked out into the lobby, noting that the pimply teenager at the front desk hadn’t moved from his spot or his Playboy magazine. Gross.

After convincing myself it was nothing, I went back to the locker room to change. I had just opened the padlock on the locker when I felt the sensation that I wasn’t alone. I looked around me, not seeing anything, so I went to the other row of lockers, again not seeing anyone. 

“Too many scary movies, Kate,” I muttered to my self. I rounded the corner and ran smack dab into a pair of hands. A let out a shrill scream before I realized it was Tom. “God damn it, Tom! You scared the shit out of me!”

“I’m sorry,” he said in a laugh, grabbing my hands and pulling them to him. “I knocked on the girls’ locker room door, but didn’t hear you. So I went in and didn’t see you, and I got worried. What are you doing in here?”

“This is the boys’ locker room?” I asked with him nodding. I didn’t even see a sign distinguishing the two rooms. “No wonder it smells in here.”

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he kissed the top of my head once I took my swim cap off. “I’ll let you get changed.”

He moved to walk out of the locker room, but I grabbed him by his hand. “No, stay. This place is creepy. I don’t want to be left alone.” Tom just smirked, relenting to my pull. He sat down on the wooden bench just behind us. 

“I won’t look,” Tom said after I retrieved my bags and clothes. I smiled and looked over at him, his eyes squeezed shut, his lips tightly pursed. This was obviously paining him. As I looked at him, I started to fantasize about what I wanted do — or should I say, what Sexy Kate wanted to do. 

I would silently walk over him and straddle his lap while he would snap his eyes open and ask what I was doing. I would then silence his questions with a kiss, guiding his hands to either my waist or boobs — probably the boobs, more than likely. May as well go for a home run. After a few warm up kisses, I would take off my swimsuit top and he would take a nipple into his mouth. God, I could practically feel the warmth of his tongue on me now. 

After that, I would rip his shirt off and kiss all the way down his chest, clearing a path to his pants, which would then be discarded on the floor. Somewhere down the line, he would take my swimsuit bottoms off and begin thrusting deep inside me. I’m sure it wouldn’t take long for either one of us to come undone. Especially me, since I haven’t had sex in nearly two years. God, I’m sure there are cobwebs down there. 

I shook my head of all the thoughts, trying to recompose myself. “Tom, you’re fine. Seriously.”

He slowly opened one eye, testing the waters, so to speak. I took my second towel from the bag and wrapped it around me, securely tucking the corner under my arm. Bring on the deck change. 

“Did you get all your errands done?” I asked, slipping my fingers under the straps of my swimsuit top and pulling them down. I reached up the towel and pulled the top down and quickly pulled my cotton shirt over my head and took my towel off. 

“Um, uh, yeah,” Tom answered, still trying to advert his eyes, even though my goodies were concealed. “The store was really busy, but I managed to get everything on the list. Including sleeping pants for you.”

I just rolled my eyes and slid the towel down my waist, reaching up once more and removing my bottoms. I clenched my thighs closed when the cool air hit my nether region (and the fact that my fantasy was still in the back of my mind didn’t help at all either).

I picked up my underwear — a nice lacey shade of blue — from my pile of clothes and slipped them on, smirking at Tom, who now was looking up at the ceiling like it was the most interesting thing he had even seen. I took off my towel and tossed it in my bag before slipping my jeans on. Had I known it was going to be 90 degrees, I would have dug out my shorts from my “summer clothes” tote. 

After my pants and swim bag were zipped, I put my bag on my shoulder and held my hand out to Tom. “Ready. Thanks for staying with me.” He looked at me, his jaw clenched and set in a grimace, and exhaled a long breath before reaching up and taking my hand. Once we were out of the locker room, he pulled my closer to him, wrapping his arm around me. 

“Anything for my love.”


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't be able to be online tomorrow night, so I am posting Wednesday's chapter today!! Enjoy!

On any other given day, spending my day in front of the television would be boring. But add an attractive British man to the mix, it was the best afternoon _ever_. 

Since getting back from the pool, we had camped out on the couch in front of the television, with a fan pointed on us. After noon, a storm rolled in, darkening the sky and bringing in a cooler breeze. While it was slightly chiller in Tom’s apartment, neither one of us made the attempt to shut off the fan. But that was more than likely due to the fact that both of us were tangled in each other’s arms. (Don’t hate!)

Tom rested against the couch, facing the television, while I faced toward the couch and Tom, my head tucked under his chin. He was watching some romantic comedy on TBS while I was on the edge of falling asleep. I couldn’t help it: I was warm, safe and comforted by his evened-out breaths. Every once in a while he would chuckle and laugh, only making me smirk. 

“I think we need pet names,” Tom said, his voice a little garbled since my ear was pressed against his chest. “These two have pet names.”

I hoisted myself up to his level, resting my elbow on the soft fabric of the couch with my head propped on my hand. “I’ve never done pet names,” I said, trying not to crinkle my nose. “I’m not into all that cutesy stuff.”

“Hm…” Tom responded, totally undeterred by my comment. “I’ve called you ‘Darling’ before.”

“You call everyone ‘darling,’ Darling.” I smirked. 

“Okay — Honey?” Tom looked down at me and saw my disapproving look. “Okay, no to that. Sweetie? Pumpkin? Babe? Snookums? Flipper?”

“Okay, now you’re just stretching,” I laughed. 

“Well, what were your pet names with your past boyfriends?”

“Hm, does ‘Dickhead’ and 'Asshole' count?” Tom just laughed. “I honestly was never in a relationship long enough to get to the ‘pet name phase.’”

“Tell me about your old boyfriends.”

I looked up at him with curious eyes. I knew the conversation of past partners was going to come up sooner or later. I just wanted it to be later. “You really want to get into this now?”

Tom shrugged. “The movie’s over. There's bound to be some entertainment in this.”

“Well, in high school there was Daniel and Luke. Daniel was really supportive of my dream, but he couldn’t handle all the pressure I put on myself, nor the extra attention that was put on us. We both decided breaking up was for the best. We’re still good friends, actually,” I said, keeping my eyes level with Tom’s throat. I watched his Adam’s Apple bob up and down, almost like he was trying to swallow the jealousy he was feeling. “Daniel wasn’t as supportive. Our relationship was more just as something to do on the weekend; a person to have so you didn’t have to go to a house party alone, you know? We broke up going into summer of 2004. With the Olympics, I really couldn’t ‘give him the attention he needed,’ so I ended it. Plus, he really wanted to be single freshman year of college.”

“Idiot,” Tom mumbled. 

“Then there was Garrett, who cheated on my every chance he could get. Then Brett, who thought the only thing I should do was model my swimsuits for him, preferably in the bedroom,” I swallowed, still not wanting to look up to Tom. I could feel his grip tighten on my back. “And then Greg. That relationship was doomed from the beginning.”

“Why?”

“He was a total misogynistic, sexist pig. He believed — I’m sure he still believes — that women can’t do anything. He loved to tell me that all the time; that I was wasting my time swimming because I would never be as good as Michael Phelps or any of the other guys,” I sighed and looked up at Tom, who had a look of hurt in his eyes. I just smiled. “Most of my relationships never lasted longer than six months. No guy could handle my commitment to swimming and dedication to training. But with Greg, I actually kept that relationship going for two years. It was just so much fun to prove him wrong.”

“That sounds like the Katie I know.”

I couldn’t believe how easy this conversation was going. Normally this was the one part of the relationship I avoided: it’s awkward, uncomfortable and so personal. But with Tom, I felt at ease; like I could really open up to him. 

“Then there’s this one guy,” I fixed myself on my side, bringing Tom and my faces closer. “He’s different than any other guy I dated. He’s caring, thoughtful, intelligent, worldly, very enthusiastic and so much more.”

“Yeah?” My smile grew bigger. He was catching on. “Does he happen to be British?” I nodded. “Is he an actor?” Tom whispered. I nodded again. “Is he in this room?”

“Maybe.” I leaned up to kiss him and he eagerly accepted. His strong hand that was on my back moved up to my neck; his fingers gently skimming over my skin. We kept the kiss short and sweet before breaking it off. “Did I also mention he’s a great kisser?”

“No, but that should often be referenced.” 

He went to kiss me, but I pulled back. “Now, now, it’s your turn.” 

He let out a little puff of air before sucking another one in. Obviously his dating history is just as long and complicated as mine. “Well, in grade school there was Lizzie Anderson — the first girl I ever kissed and she said I was horrible. So you should look her up and protest,” he said with a smirk. “Then Molly when I was 14. And then Emily, just before university. I really thought I was going to be with her forever, but she didn’t support my dream of acting.”

I nodded my head. It seems both of us had traveled down a similar relationship path. 

“Then once I got into RADA, I was surrounded with people like me. We had the same goals, ideas and dreams. I never had a steady girlfriend while at RADA,” he said sheepishly, like he was worried about what I was going to think. I just shrugged. He didn't have to explain it to me, I had flings and one night stands with other swimmers. It's just convenient; I'm sure acting around the clock was no different. “Then once I graduated and got more movie roles, my relationships became more high-profiled and that actually scared me.”

There was Kat, one of the more recognizable actors. Tom said he couldn’t handle the pressure that was put on their relationship and they shortly broke up after. And then, most recently, he dated Jane, who was more controlling than Tom thought.

“I thought she was the maternal and nurturing type, but she was pretty controlling,” he said. “I just couldn’t deal with her fifteen phone calls a day wondering where I was and what I was doing.”

Tom also told me about Susanna, a fellow actor whom he believed he was going to marry. She was really the only person he was affectionate with in front of the cameras and on the red carpet. However, his career was just picking up and he wanted more. Susanna wasn’t getting much buzz in her career and they began to fight, ultimately the end of their relationship.

“I became more guarded after dating her and wary of a relationship in the spotlight. It wasn’t right how we ended it. We’ve both had closure since then, but I still feel bad,” Tom ran his hand through his hair. “She’s married now. And really happy.”

“And I’m sure she wants you to be happy, too.”

He smiled at me. “And I am.”


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know...I missed Saturday's update! This past week has been absolutely insane and it looks like it will continue until Christmas. :/
> 
> I am however attempting to put together a Hiddleston Christmas fic to be posted the week of Christmas. So I may continue doing the one update a week so I can get that written! I hope you will all understand!! :)

The rest of the day with Tom went by perfectly: we watched more television (even snuck in a nap) and cooked and ate dinner together and drank wine — tons of it. While I like to think I can hold my alcohol, I know I can’t hold my wine, so I was the first to bed. I debated on wearing my underwear instead of my sleeping shorts, but decided to be nice. After all, tomorrow is Tom’s first day on set. 

I fell asleep as soon as I hit the bed, thanks to the merlot wine. But I soon woke up a bit later, suffocating in the sudden warmth of the room. I popped open the nearby window a crack before glancing at the alarm clock by the bed: 11:07 p.m. I had been asleep for two hours already? Then I looked around the room in a semi-drunken haze. Where was Tom?

I shuffled over to the door in a semi-straight line and peered out into the living room, finding Tom in a chair by the window, illuminated by a small side table lamp. I studied him for a bit, curious as to what he was doing. After a few minutes of watching, I concluded he was reading through a scene; a music scene nonetheless, noted by the strumming of his fingers in the air as if a guitar were in front of him.

“Baby, what are you doing?” I croaked out to him. I winced at my choice of words; “baby” was not the right pet name for Tom.

He looked up with bleary eyes, exhaustion obviously getting the best of him. “I’m just reading through one of the scenes for tomorrow.”

“You have to be on set in six hours,” I said, walking over to him. I extended my hand for him to take. “You do need to get some sleep.”

“I know, I just — you’re right,” he conceded. He put his few pieces of paper down and rubbed his face with his hands. “I’ll be right in.”

I relented and went back to the bedroom, taking my previous spot in the bed. I turned the bedside lamp on so Tom could see and waited. And waited. And waited. I might have fallen asleep in-between my waiting, but when I felt the bed shift under Tom’s weight, I realized it had been another two hours.

I remained still as he got into bed and turned the light off. Once he got settled I turned to him and propped myself up on my elbow. I could make out his silhouette in the light from the nearby street lamps, including the look of worry on his face. 

“Tell me what’s wrong,” I said, running my hand through his hair. It was a tactic I had learned to do with Brittney, when she would have a breakdown about a script or character. Whenever I soothed her hair, she sang like a canary, telling me her thoughts and feelings. I just hoped Tom was privy to my touch, so to speak. “I want to help.”

“I’m just worrying,” he mumbled, relenting to my tactic after a while. “About tomorrow.”

“Why?”

“The very first scene we’re doing is where Hank realizes he’s hit rock bottom, so it’s pretty emotional,” Tom said, catching my hand with his. He started to play with my fingers, which I must admit, started to distract me. Retaliation, perhaps? “Then after that, we’re doing the first singing scene. And I heard Mr. Williams’ grandson will be in attendance.”

“So?”

“He’s been very vocal in his dislike for my casting.”

“No, I know that,” I chuckled. “I mean why do you care about his opinion? From what I hear, he’s struggling with his own life and career. Who is he to judge?”

“You’re right. I know I shouldn’t care, but when all that negative press is shoved in your face to much, you tend to start reading into it,” Tom said, releasing my hand and covering his face. 

“Tom, you’re a fantastic actor, you have to believe that,” I uncovered his hands from his face and forced him to look at me. “You’ve worked so hard in preparing for this role. And you’re not going to let anyone bring you down. They obviously cast you for the role because they knew you have what it takes. Don’t let anyone take that away from you.”

He turned over and faced me. “You’re right. I don’t know why I’m making this a bigger deal than it is.” He laced his fingers in mine and rested our hands on his pillow. “This is just a huge project that can really propel me in my career; make people see that I am more than Loki.”

I cupped his face and traced my thumb across his jaw. “Honey, I think everyone knows you more than Loki,” I laughed. “But I know what you mean, and I respect that.”

Tom gave me a kiss before rolling on his back. After a while, he cleared his throat and turned back to me. “You know,” he started, waking me up from the first part of my REM cycle. “All of what you said also applies to you. Don’t let that King guy get you down.”

I set up in bed and glared down at him. “Did you just ‘Inception’ me?”

Tom laughed, pulling me into his arms. “I am a man of many talents, my love.”

And that, I don’t doubt.


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So my Christmas story idea probably won't come through this year. Just some conflicting ideas that I don't think will be worked through in time for me updating it. So hopefully that will be for next year!!
> 
> Anyways...back to our regularly scheduled updates! <3

I still don’t believe Tom got much sleep last night — er, this morning. He tossed and turned quite a bit. I hoped that he would at least be so worn out from his 10-hour day on set that he would crash right away tonight. 

We got up at 4:30 in the morning in order to get to set at 5, where Tom would begin his day in make up before shooting the first scene of the movie at 7 a.m. He led me to his trailer, where I gave him a tight hug for good luck, not like he was going to need it.

While Tom would be doing his scenes, I planned to catch up on some magazines in his trailer. I pulled out my four months worth of National Geographic and Nylon magazines and dug in. Between all of the packing and getting things in order for my move, I had gotten lackadaisical in my magazine upkeep.

After reading two issues of Nylon, my text message ringtone specifically assigned for Rick went off. His short message of “hope you’re having a good trip, see you tomorrow” was joined by a web link. I opened it and my jaw dropped with what I saw. 

“Perkins blasts King”

Kieren Perkins, the greatest swimmer to ever swim — at least in my eyes — was speaking out on my behalf? He had been my swimming idol growing up and I have been fortunate enough to meet him once and talk to him for ten minutes a second time. However, I never expected anything like this from him. After getting my heart rate back to normal, I scrolled down, reading the article.

_The two-time Olympic medalist spoke out in defense of Miller, arguing that King is cutting the American swimmer short on her potential._

_“There is no fiercer competitor than Kate,” he said, speaking only to Channel Nine News. “Tom King is not only cutting her short, but ignoring that fact that she has been a dominant force not only in the pool, but also in the sporting world for nearly 20 years.”_

_Perkins continued: “She’s been a great asset to the swimming community across the world. By being in movies, she’s only continuing to raise awareness for the sport she loves,” he said. “I don’t foresee her stopping anytime soon.”_

As I scrolled down, I noticed that more swimmers’ comments were mentioned in the article, such as Ryan and Cullen, and other friends like Michael Phelps, Peter Vanderkaay and Amanda Beard. 

My favorite one was probably Ryan’s, from Twitter: _Easy to say when you sit behind a desk all day. Kate’s the best swimmer ever. Period. #Jeah RT @SI.com The rise and fall of Kate Miller? www.si.com/Miller-should-call-it-quits_

I replied to Rick with my thanks, before reading over the article once more. Confidence boost, you know?

I was just about to start my first National Geographic magazine when the door to Tom’s trailer opened and he walked in. He was dressed in a 1940s suit, which was a little wrinkled, and a hat. I looked up to the clock and was amazed that it was already noon; the time flew by. 

“All done with the first scene?” I asked, noting that Tom’s eyes were a little red. Whatever was detailed in the scene, I took it that Tom got pretty emotional with his acting. 

“Yes, now it’s time for lunch and then back to make up,” he answered, taking his hat off and taking a seat next to me. “Then we’re shooting the singing scene. Which I request your presence for.”

“Me? You want me there?”

“If Mr. Williams can be there and give me his two cents, then I demand you be there as well,” he replied in a calm manner, with just a touch of anger in some words. “Besides, if I’m going to get an ear full of criticism from a room full of people, one of them may as well be drop dead gorgeous.”

I laughed and shook my head. “What ever I can do to help.”

Tom and I quickly got a bit to eat before heading to the make up trailer. I sat in the chair next to Tom as he had his makeup reapplied and his hair slicked back with gel. The head of the hair and makeup department even let me help, which was apparently becoming my new favorite thing to do to Tom, even though he shot down my attempts to apply purple eye shadow to his face. 

Tom went to set first, telling me it would take a while to set the shot up; someone would collect me when they were ready to film. 

I helped Jan, the director of hair and make up, pick up her brushes and collect the bottles of foundation and powder. 

“That man is something else,” she said, eyeing my reaction. I just smiled and agreed. “How long have you been seeing each other?”

“We’ve known each other for a year, but have been dating since June,” I said while handing her a large powder brush. “It’s nice to finally have him closer to home, even if we are still a thousand miles away.”

Jan gave a wide smile. “You two are very cute together. And I’ve seen many couples come and go in my trailer,” she zipped her make up belt across her hips and began sticking brushes in the holders. “Are you an actress as well?”

“Oh, no,” I started. Even thought I had filmed the three Hunger Games movies and had some small bit parts in the films Britt directed and wrote, I still hadn’t considered myself as an actress. And I probably never would. “I’m a swimmer.”

Her smile fell from a smile to a confused look. “A swimmer? Huh. I would have guessed a model or something. You should really thing about becoming an actress; you already have the looks to boot.”

I resisted rolling my eyes. “Thanks, that’s kind of you.”

We talked a little bit about the film before one of director’s personal assistants called us to set. Jan slipped a cross body bag full of hair products over her shoulder and fastened a comb to her make up kit. “Let’s hit it.”

Jan took her place near the director while I hung back a ways, not wanting to be in anyone’s way. However, I still had a good view of Tom. I looked around the scene as they were putting the finishing touches on set up. I saw lights and tech people, a few that I assumed were producers and then off in the corner, surrounded by a small group of people, was Hank III. He was watching the scene unfold with a cocky smile on his face. His eyes then found me, only causing his smirk to grow larger.

“Quiet on the set,” the director yelled. He called action just a few seconds later. 

Right on cue, Tom started to perform “I Saw the Light." He went through the first verse of the lyrics followed by the chorus before the director called cut. He and the music director then rushed up on stage and they began talking. I stepped to the side to get a better look of what was going on, only to turn my attention to the lesser known Hank, who was snickering in the shadows. 

“Let’s go again,” the director called, stepping down. The cue guy ran up stage and clapped the clipboard, signaling Tom to get ready. This time he got a bit farther before cut was called again. 

“This isn’t right,” Hank called out, walking up to the stage. Before I knew what I was doing, I was starting to make my way to the stage; my hands balled into fists. I stopped myself and looked around, making sure no one else was staring at me. “There’s not enough emotion. It nothing but words.”

“Hank, we’re the directors, not you,” the music director said. “We said you could watch if you stood in the back and listened. We don’t need the criticism.”

As Hank walked away muttering something about Tom not being American, I watched as the directors talked to Tom. I could vaguely hear them direct Tom to find some more emotion; to sing the song to one special person. I watched as he searched the crowd before settling his eyes on me. I gave him a smile and winked, hoping that would put him at ease. 

The director called action once more, waving his finger to have the music cued up. This time, Tom nailed it. 

He kept his eyes on me as he performed the first block of lyrics.

_I wandered so aimless life filled with sin_  
I wouldn’t let my dear savior in  
Then Jesus came like a stranger in the night  
Praise the Lord I saw the light. 

I felt a shiver run through my spine and the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. From his look to the voice, Tom was Hank Williams and he was singing the song to me and me alone. I couldn’t help as the smile grew larger on my face. 

_I saw the light, I saw the light_  
No more darkness no more night  
Now I’m so happy no sorrow in sight  
Praise the Lord I saw the light 

I found myself swaying to the song, as many other people on set did. After Tom finished the song, I took a glance over to the corner and saw Hank III with a frown on his face. Obviously, he was pissed Tom succeeded. Then once again, he looked over at me, a crooked smile replacing the frown. I quickly turned my attention back to Tom as they filmed a few more bits of other songs for a montage, according to the directors. 

Around four, production was called good for the night. Since tomorrow would be an eighteen-hour day for most of the cast and crew, the director let everyone go early today. I hung around waiting for Tom while the crew packed up equipment. I was busy watching the ongoing conversation on the stage that I never even noticed Hank III approach me. 

“I couldn’t help but see you looking at me,” he said in a soft Southern accent. I had only seen a picture of him once, but he hardly looked anything like it. He looked older and had more wrinkles on his face, like he’s lived a life of worry. “I’m Hank. And I’d love to take you out to dinner.”

I wanted to laugh in his face, but decided to be nice. Besides, Tom would have to face him later this week. “I’m flattered, but no thanks.” I turned back to look at Tom, hoping to see him coming this way. No such luck.

“Ah, you have your eye on Hiddleston,” he continued. “If you want to date a singer, I’m right here.”

I turned back to him, appalled at his boldness. I thought Southern guys were supposed to be gentlemen? “And how would you know what I want?”

He chuckled, happy I was playing his game. “I’ve been with types like you. I know.”

“And I’ve been with types like you,” I spat. “No. Thanks.”

I was about to walk away when Hank grabbed my forearm and turned me to him. I glanced over to Tom to see him still in deep conversation with the directors, and now the band members. I really didn’t want to cause any issues for him. “ _Who_ are you?”

I took a step closer to him, mere inches from his face. “I am Tom Hiddleston’s girlfriend. And your worse fucking nightmare.” I pried his hand off me and shoved it back to him. “Keep your jackass comments to yourself.”

I turned and strode away from him, fuming. I needed to get out of there. The group on stage was breaking up, so I took the opportunity to walk up to Tom. “I’m going to the trailer.”

“Oh, okay.” 

I went to walk away but stopped, turning on my heel. I walked back up to Tom with a smile and pressed my lips to his for a searing kiss. “You sounded amazing,” I said when we broke apart. “I wasn’t sure if it was you or Hank singing to me.”

“Hank’s voice, but it was me,” he said, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. “You’re my light.”

I resisted laughing at the cheesy line, giving him a quick kiss instead. I reiterated that I would be in the trailer once again, sneaking a peak at Hank as I turned to walk out of the concert hall. Once Tom returned to the trailer, sans period clothing and make up, we gathered our things and went to the car production had brought up to take us back to the apartment. 

As we walked out of the lot hand in hand, we began to hear more voices as we neared our car. When we rounded the corner of the gate, we saw the group of people that was now gathering. 

“Sorry, Mr. Hiddleston. We’re trying to get them to leave right now,” one of the security guards said as we approached. Some of the fans in front recognized Tom and started to call his name. “Your car isn’t here yet either. It’s just down the road, but traffic congestion is bad this time of the day.”

“It’s okay,” Tom replied good naturally. He then looked to me with an apologetic expression. “Would it be okay?”

I chuckled. Like he had to ask for my permission? “Go on. Your adoring fans await.”

He strode over to the crowd in six long steps, shrills of excitement filling the air. Two security guards followed Tom to the crowd while I stayed behind to watch the scene solo. I watched as Tom took photos with fans, signed dvds, books and posters, as well as shaking hands and giving hugs. He was so good to his fans. 

“Your car is here, Miss Miller,” Tom’s personal assistant for the film told me, gently nudging me in the direction of the black SUV that just pulled up to a nearby curb. “We’ll go and get Mr. Hiddleston.” 

I thanked him and made my way to the car, passing by the edge of the crowd. I was a couple hundred feet from the car when I heard more shouting. After a few more steps I realized that it was my name being called. I turned around and saw a few fans waving at me. After a few more seconds I decided to walk over there, unsure of what was exactly happening. 

“Hi, we don’t mean to keep you from your night, but we just wanted to say how much we love you,” one of the girls started. Her two other friends nodded in agreement, trying to contain their excitement. 

“Me?”

“Yeah!” she continued. “I loved you in Catching Fire. Especially the elevator scene.”

We all laughed. “Well, thank you, that’s really sweet. What are your names?”

The three girls introduced themselves as Cathy, the one who flagged me down, Renee and Emily. The three girls, who live in various towns across Louisiana and are big fans of Tom, decided to meet up in Shreveport after talking through a fan site for two years. I also found out that Renee used to swim in high school and Emily’s cousin went to the 2008 Olympics in judo. They had me sign a couple items for them, as well as take a few photos.

“Well, you girls are sweet to stand out here in the dark waiting,” I told them. “Especially in the cool night air. Tom’s fans are so great.”

“We’re your fans, too,” Renee spoke up. “Besides Catching Fire and your swimming. We think you and Tom are so cute together.”

I didn’t really know what to say to that. I guess I never thought about what other people would think of us, but I suppose that was a common topic on the Internet. 

“Were you here visiting him on set?” Emily asked just as quickly as Renee commented on our couple cuteness. 

“Yeah, just for the weekend. I got to actually see some of the scenes being filmed. It was amazing. I think you will all enjoy the movie.”

We talked a little bit more about the film and Tom’s role in it before the man himself interrupted us. “Here you are!” Cathy, Renee and Emily all dropped their jaws, now starring at Tom instead of continuing our conversation.

“Tom, this is Cathy, Renee and Emily,” I told him. “They’re huge fans and they’ve been keeping me wonderful company.”

Tom took all of their hands — placing a kiss on each one — and spoke to them by name, asking where they were from, how they’ve enjoyed their time in town and what else they would be doing on their trip. They were able to ask him a few questions too, before a security guard came up to us. 

“We need to get Mr. Hiddleston and Miss Miller going,” he apologized to the girls. They looked a bit dejected, but still happy to have met Tom. 

“Wait,” I said, grabbing Tom by the elbow as he was about to walk away. “Let me take a photo of you guys.” Tom happily obliged, taking a phone from Renee and handing it to me. 

“We want Kate in it, too,” Emily spoke up as Tom took to her side. Tom gave me a smile and took back the phone, handing it to the security guard instead.

After our photo was taken, the girls thanked us over and over. Tom and I waved and said out goodbyes before heading to the car, Tom’s hand resting on the small of my back. Once we were in the car, Tom held me to him and placed a kiss on the top of my head, “thanks for being here, Kate.”

“Anytime, sunshine.”


	38. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kate is such a tease. ;)

Once we got back to the apartment, Tom and I decided to order in food instead of going out (and the fact that he had yet fully stocked his cabinets with food aided in the ordering, too). While he hopped in the shower, I ordered Mexican food from a local restaurant. 

As I ended the call, my thumb opened up the Tumblr app on phone, which I used as another fan page on social media. As I quickly scanned through my home feed, I thought about a part of the conversation I had with Cathy, Renee and Emily. They mentioned about running a fan site in honor of Tom on Tumblr, and that he had a huge following. 

Against my better judgment, I decided to type in Tom’s name in the search bar. After scrolling through a few headshots and photos (which were delicious, I might add), I came across some photos taken from tonight, including ones of Tom and I hand in hand. I glanced over toward the bedroom to make sure Tom wasn’t out of the shower yet before I continued. 

As I looked at more photos tonight, I found the one of Tom and I with the three girls. I smiled at the photo, seeing at how happy Cathy, Renee and Emily were, before reading the caption: “AHHHmazing night! Met Tom and Kate on set of ‘I Saw the Light.’ They were both so sweet. Kate talked with us for half an hour before getting Tom to take a photo with us — can you say sweetheart? #PerfectCouple #Millerston”

_“Millerston”? Is that our celebrity nickname? I demand a recount._

There were some more comments on the site about Tom’s meetings tonight, with most of them being positive about seeing me with him. There were some other comments about how cute it was we were holding hands and how Tom was probably the best boyfriend on the planet. 

There were also some more comments that were not so nice. While they weren’t as negative or cruel as I imagined they could have been, they weren’t especially flattering. “I give it until the end of the year,” was one of the comments. “She’s probably just sleeping with him for the fame. Or his dick. Maybe both,” was another. I wanted to do something — retaliate or respond — but just as luck would have it, Tom walked out of the bedroom in nothing but a towel. _And who’s the bitter bitch now?_

“Did you order something?”

“Yeah, Mexican food,” I said, which was becoming surprisingly difficult with the saliva leaving my mouth. I felt like my mouth had been baked in the hot sun and Tom was loving it. The towel hung dangerously low on his hips and water droplets were still making their way from his hair and down his body. Dear god, this man was pure poison. “I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I got a variety of dishes.”

He smirked at me, making sure to rub in my pain by running his hand over his chest as he walked over to me. His hand started on his pectorals before running down and skimming over his abs. My eyes watched the entire movement. “A variety, huh?”

I nodded. “Yep. Tacos, burritos and enchiladas of the sort. Take your pick.”

“That all sounds delicious,” he got closer to me, forcing me to lower my hand that was holding my phone. I quickly slid it into my back pocket, not wanting Tom to see what I was searching. He slid his hands across my stomach and waist before resting them on my hips, the pads of his fingers gently pressing into my butt cheeks. _Is it appropriate to say “butt cheeks” in a moment like this?_ “And what about dessert?” Tom asked just above a whisper. 

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to understand what he was getting at. _S-E-X._ I knew there was no way I would be able to talk him out of anything and somehow, I didn’t really want to. He had this look in his eyes: possessive, but not crazy at to cause harm; sure, but not conceded that he would get his way. It was playful, passionate and oh so sexy as hell. “I think I’ll leave that to you.”

I thought he would respond with something witty, but instead, I found myself pressed up against the door with Tom’s lips attacking mine. This kiss was unlike any other kiss we shared: it was strong and intoxicating as the man himself. His face crushed against mine and our bodies were pressed hard against each other, melting into one. I could feel the front of my cream shirt go damp, more than likely revealing my dark blue bra through the wet spots. 

At Tom’s tongue greedily explored my mouth, darting and teasing, his fingers began to move up my shirt ever so slightly. As they continued on the path toward my bra, I kissed Tom back as best as I could, but I felt like a tiny flower in a windstorm, struggling to not blow away. He was so powerful and determined. And it didn’t help that my body failed me, giving into the musician as he played his instrument. All I could do was stand there and hold onto his powerful shoulders.

Tom soon began kissing along my jaw, the heat from his breath and prickle from his stubble mixing into a euphoric feeling. My toes started to curl against the hardwood floor as he kissed and sucked at the sensitive spot just under my left ear. I could smell the intoxicating blend of Tom, mixed with the fresh scent of his shampoo or body wash — whatever it was he used in the shower. 

I was suddenly aware of the fact that while Tom nibbling on the skin underneath my ear, that I could feel his hardened member though his towel, which was now dangerously close to falling off. I debated about ripping the entire towel off, swallowing a laugh when I imagined what Tom’s face would have looked like. I instead shook off the thought and concentrated on the feeling of Tom’s lips on my neck and his hands now covering my bra. I estimated it would be another five minutes until the material was totally removed.

My breathing was labored and my mind was becoming clouded, but I knew we couldn’t do this. At least not against a door — I mean, the eyehole was right against the base of head. I opened my mouth and began to form the words “take me to the bedroom” when there was a knock on the door — a rather forceful one, I may add. 

“Maria’s Mexican!” the voice called from the other side. _Fuck._ I had had forgotten all about that. Both of our chests were heaving when he pulled apart, but Tom, with his clenched jaw and his darkened eyes, looked like he was about to kill someone. Dear, your Loki is showing. 

Tom moved me from the door before opening it at an alarming rate, scaring both the delivery boy and me. “Uh, here’s your food. It’s already paid for,” the voice said, not realizing he interrupted a very heated moment. Tom took the food and was just short of slamming the door shut. Good thing I already have the guy a tip when I called in the order.

Tom set the food on the counter in the kitchen and mumbled, “start without me,” as he headed to the bedroom. I assumed he went to change into clothes, so I started getting the food out of the to go containers. Then I heard the familiar sounds of the shower. While I felt bad for the pain Tom was probably in, it was kind of a hilarious situation. But then I felt my own dull ache between my legs and started to feel a bit of anger for the delivery guy, who was really just doing his job. I don’t know how long it had been for Tom, but I know I was in need. I thought about picking up where Tom left off and joining him in the shower, but then I heard it turn off, followed by the growl of my stomach. Yep, the mood was officially killed.

I put an enchilada and a taco on my plate along with some rice and guacamole. I was just about to see what Tom wanted on his plate when he walked in the kitchen and grabbed a beer out of the fridge. _You don’t have food in the fridge, but you have beer._ Yep, typical guy.

“What would you like?”

Tom looked down at the food choices and hummed. “They all look wonderful,” he said, his voice returning back to normal. “I will take a burrito and an enchilada.” I added rice and guacamole to his plate before handing it to him and following him to the living room. After this, I would have to finish packing for my six a.m. flight, which I was already dreading. 

“So, what scenes do you have to film tomorrow?” I asked, trying to forget the fact that I would be leaving Tom in a matter of hours.

Tom finished chewing some rice before answering. “More singing scenes. And from what I heard, Hank III was not invited.”

I laughed. “Good. You don’t need that negativity there.”

“I wish you could be there, thought. It’s nice to have a smiling face there,” Tom looked at me and smiled. I was about to say there would be other smiling faces there, but Tom cut me off — almost like he knew what I was thinking. “I want my smiling face there.”

“My smiling face is just a phone call away.”


	39. Chapter 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas!!!

If you would have told me six months ago that I would be driving across the country with my SUV packed full of 25 years of stuff, including medals and two cats, with my grandfather in tow, I would have called you crazy. But yet, here I am in eastern South Dakota, searching for the World’s largest pheasant with a four-time Oscar winner. 

“I think you took the wrong exit. We should be there by now,” my grandfather told me, his thick Greek accent still noticeable on some words.

“Grandpa, I think we should be able to see the pheasant from the road,” I said. “We’re not going to miss it.” I glanced over at him, trying to hold back a laugh. “What is the big deal about this pheasant?”

“There was a guy stationed with me in the Army. Daniel Raddle. He was from Madison, South Dakota, and he said there was a giant pheasant.”

“So?”

“So? He was a liar and I don’t believe him.”

“Grandpa, why would he lie about a giant pheasant?”

“Why would you lie about seeing a moose on the boarder of ‘No Man’s Land’? People lie.”

I rolled my eyes and mumbled some Greek swear words under my breath, causing my grandfather to laugh and poke me in the side. “Who taught you to swear like that?”

“My papouli!”

He chuckled once more and folded up the map. We searched a bit longer before finding the pheasant, all 28 feet of it. My grandfather looked at with a mix of amazement and confusion, and dare a say, a little contempt. I don’t think he liked knowing his old Army buddy was right. 

“So, this is it?” I said, staring up at the large fowl. “It’s not even real. It’s just hallowed metal.”

“Damn Daniel Raddle.”

After staring at the odd sculpture for a bit longer, we got into the car and began our trek to Rapid City, where we would be staying for the night. Grandpa used to vacation in South Dakota before he moved to Hollywood, so he was adamant we drive through on my way to my new home. He was actually adamant we drive through as many states as we could, while keeping good time. As long as the hotels we stayed in had a pool I could use, I was okay with that.

“What should we talk about now?” my grandfather asked. He began to open a bag of pretzels that was sitting in the center console. I wasn’t sure what else we could talk about: when we left Michigan we couldn’t get a word in edge wise since the cats were meowing non-stop. But once they settled into the drive and feeling of the car, the quieted down quickly. When we got to Indiana, we talked about Britt and Zach, then my parents in Illinois. The second day of travel we talked about the next two years of swimming, races and practices through Wisconsin and Minnesota. And then, of course, the pheasant. 

“I don’t know. What would you like to talk about?”

Grandpa was silent for a few minutes, cautiously chewing on a pretzel before answering. “I think we should talk about your boyfriend.”

“Tom?”

“Yes, I want to hear all about him. Then I expect to meet him soon.”

“Dad hasn’t even met Tom yet. Shouldn’t your son meet him first?”

“I am the patriarch of the family. I get to meet him first,” Grandpa was about to pop another pretzel in his mouth before he paused. “After your mother, of course.”

I laughed. Everyone knew who ran the Miller clan. 

“What do you want to know, Papouli?”

“Everything. We still have three hundred miles until our next stop.”

“Well, Tom is an actor. He went to RADA,” I began before I was cutoff, quite rudely if I might add.

“I don’t want to know that,” he said, his Greek accent getting even thicker. “I want to know how you met. What you felt. How does he make you feel?”

I gave him a look before returning my eyes to the road. Have you ever heard the saying stubborn as a mule? Well, that probably originated in Greece and it’s the epitome of my grandfather. It’s just better to tell him what he wants to know. Trust. Me.

I started off with how Tom and I met, followed by our random meetings.

“It’s not random, it’s fate,” grandpa interjected. 

I continued on: our night at the BAFTAs, our email and text message exchanges, followed by my time in London during Wimbledon. Grandpa listened so intently, studying each story I told and analyzing the Shakespeare quotes Tom recited to me (and coming from another well-known Shakespearean actor, there was a lot to analyze). I told him just about everything, except for all the kissing. Let’s be honest, no grandfather wants or needs to know about that.

By the time we were done talking, we were pulling off the exit for Wall, South Dakota, where I desperately needed a break from driving. 

“I’ll get us to Rapid City,” grandpa said, getting back in the car after filling up the tank with gas. 

As I settled into the passenger side seat, finishing the bag of pretzels, I checked my phone for any missed calls or messages. I had a few from my parents, finding out how the trip was going, followed by one from Britt, wondering how many more days I was going to be on the road. “Sorry, still on my adventure with Papouli,” I bragged. 

There was also an email from Rick about my upcoming swim trip (with Ryan!) to Qatar and another couple emails from Richard and the Adidas management team about my upcoming trip to Germany. They just finished making some new hi-tech suits and wanted to test them out in their lab as soon as possible.

But, there was no message from Tom. I knew he was busy, but I was slightly dejected.

Ever since that night in Shreveport, our relationship changed; we were on a whole new level. Our texts became more flirtatious, our phone calls a little bit more scandalous and our video sessions, well those are far and few between. Truth be told, he was so busy working that he only had time for text messages and brief — very brief — phone calls.

His last text was from yesterday morning, when we wished each other a good day, followed by Tom telling me he had a wonderful dream about us on a sunny beach in Bali. Followed by a long, cold shower.

Our most recent conversations were about life in Shreveport, or something like that. 

_“I wish you were here. It’s really lonely coming home alone,”_ Tom told me one evening over the phone. 

_“Really? What would we do if I were there?”_

_“I can think of plenty of things we could do inside the apartment.”_

_“Like build a pillow fort?”_

_That made him chuckle. “Yes. And pants are optional inside the fort.”_

I decided to send Tom a text, hoping to make him smile when he read it after a long day of filming: “I’m planning for a trip to Germany just after the New Year. Any chances you’ll have time to squeeze me in? ;)”

After sending the text, I turned my attention to the radio, trying to find a decent channel for grandpa and I to listen to. A Temptations song was just finishing when I heard the familiar ping of Tom’s assigned text message alert tone. 

_“I will always have time to squeeze you.”_


	40. Chapter 40

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is delayed...I was on a writing kick and didn't want to stop!  
> 

Here are what the outfits look like, in case you wanted to know: [Tom](http://www.pinterest.com/pin/444800900671086670/) & [Kate](http://www.outletpad.com/clothing-and-apparel/gold-embroidered-puff-sleeve-mini-dress-in-black.html) 

                                                         ------------------------------------------------------------

Instead of just traveling to Germany in January, I decided to celebrate the change of the New Year in London. I can’t take all the credit for the idea, Tom helped. And when someone’s got a really good idea, it’s hard to argue.

However, getting to London was a job in itself. After going through a debate with my mom — about skipping out on family traditions; only to agree to leave for London two days after Christmas — I prepared for heavy negotiations with Rick. But he let me go to London on three conditions: one, I swim two times a day in the two weeks leading up to my trip — including Christmas — two, I had to promise to swim at least five times during my week in London — with any extra sessions and dry land as a bonus — and three, I needed to drop two seconds in my 800 freestyle. Done, done and, uh, hopefully done.

Tom finished with I Saw the Light in the beginning of December, after filming for a straight nine weeks. Tom had a three-day break before beginning work on The Night Manager, a television series. However, production was suspending for the holidays, which was why Tom insisted I come spend New Year’s with him. Like he had to twist my arm.

I got into London on Dec. 28 and spent it with my aunt and uncle and Jake. We did the typical touristy stuff, visiting some castles and London hotspots. The day after our activities, I held myself at the British Museum, which had the world’s leading texts on linguistics. I was determined to finish my master’s thesis by the end of the spring and decided to take advantage of the resources while I was in London. Besides, Tom was spending his last few days with his family before spending the rest of his break for me. May as well make use of my time.

On the afternoon of New Year’s Eve, my aunt and I had a girl’s day. We got a manicure and pedicure, as well had had our hair and make up done. My aunt and uncle would be attending a party at the hospital where they worked while I was attending a party with Tom. Jake was slightly dejected I wouldn’t be partying with him in the pubs downtown.

After our afternoon in the salon, we did some light window-shopping in the nearby boutiques. I hadn’t planned on purchasing anything until I saw it: the dress I knew I had to have. It was a long-sleeved form-fitting black dress that ended just above the knee — classy and modest, yet it had the perfect amount of flirty fun. Along the neck and arms of the dress was gold embellishing in beautiful accenting patterns.

“Looks like you found your party dress,” my aunt said after catching me staring at it.

I just shook my head. “I already have an outfit for tonight. I’m just looking.”

“Kate, darling, you need this dress. It’s just begging for you to wear it,” she continued. “Just go in and try it on.”

She didn’t have to twist my arm. We went into the store where a sales clerk quickly greeted us. My aunt asked her about the dress in the window and the sales clerk’s face quickly lit up.

“That’s been a very popular dress,” she said, walking over to the display in the window. “We only carry a handful of sizes of each dress — to keep individuality, you know. This is the last one of this style. Shall I put it in a fitting room for you?”

Before I could say anything, my aunt quickly agreed before pushing me in the direction of the room. I quickly slipped out of my jeans and sweater and into the dress, only falling more in love. The dress — which was a perfect fit by the way — looked even better on than in the window. Combined with my up do and make up, I knew I had to purchase it. Besides, my bonus stipend from USA Swimming was burning a hole in my pocket. I had to celebrate my first place win from Qatar — the first this year — somehow.

“Can I wear it out of the store?” I asked the sales clerk after I emerged from the tiny, but beautifully decorated, room. “I need to be uptown in half an hour.”

“Certainly!” She took the tag from the dress and rang me up. She even gave me a discount since it was the last dress in stock.

After the boutique, my aunt happily drove me uptown to Tom’s apartment and wished me a fun time, with the promise I would see her once more before I left for the States. I then rolled my suitcase up the sidewalk and to the gate of Tom’s apartment complex, where I then buzzed up to his place.

“This better be an extremely gorgeous girl on the other end,” Tom’s rich voice flowed through the intercom.

“What if it’s some six-foot-four dude with a mullet?”

“Is he in a dress?”

I laughed. “Yes!”

“Then come on up!”

Tom buzzed me through the gate and then into the complex. I thought about taking the stairs up to his floor, but opted for the elevator instead. In the elevator, I checked my reflection in the mirrored back wall — making note that my lipstick and mascara needed to be touched up — and smoothed a few fly away hairs in place.

When the elevator doors opened, I expected to walk down the hallway to Tom’s apartment — one of two on the floor. However, what I did not expect that Tom would already be there, waiting with a single rose in his hand.

“Welcome, home!” It was a funny choice of words. Not that I don’t love London, but it’s not my home. But the fact that I was with Tom made anyplace feel like home. _What a strange thought,_ my inner Kate told me. That was weird…she hasn’t been around of late. “Kate?”

“Sorry! You caught me of guard. This is so sweet.” He gave me one of those smiles that made me melt before enveloping me against his body. I took the flower with trembling fingers, not really sure why they were shaking.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he said, taking my suitcase and guiding me down the hall to his open door. “It would have been a horrible way to welcome a new year without you.”

“Ditto.”

Once we were into the apartment, I rummaged through my suitcase for my make up bag, as well as my clutch that I stashed away in the front pocket, while Tom put my flower in a vase with water. I was about to ask what the plan was for tonight before I was cut off.

“Darling, you look gorgeous.” He walked over to me and took my hands in his, well as best as he could with a make up bag between us. “I don’t know if I want to take you out looking so good. You’ll have all the guys’ eyes on you.”

I smiled and took the opportunity to wrap my arms around Tom’s shoulders. Now that he was done with I Saw the Light, he was starting to put back on more of his muscle tone. His shoulders and chest were a bit wider than I last saw him, which I can’t lie, made me drool ever so slightly.

“Well, we could stay in and have our own party,” I leaned in and gently pressed my lips to his. He happily returned the kiss with an abundance of passion, slipping his tongue in the mix. When his hands quickly found my ass, I then knew that starting this was a bad idea. I didn’t want to stop.

After a while, Tom pulled away, his chest slightly heaving. “As much as I would love that, I’ve already RSVP-ed to our party tonight.”

I shrugged my shoulder and slipped from his grip. “I just need to put more lipstick on then I will be ready.”

I went to his bathroom and touched up my make up, giving myself another once over, before exiting. Tom, who was dressed in a dark wash pair of jeans and grey sweater, was slipping on a leather jacket as I walked into the living room. I took a few seconds to unapologetically ogle him, suddenly thinking about undressing him. _Do it, do it,_ the voice in my head said.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing,” I shook my head. “I just think I may have to chase women away from you tonight. Maybe even some men.”

“Tell you what, we’ll watch each other’s backs tonight,” he laughed.

After Tom grabbed his wallet and keys, we headed down to the first floor, where the doorman already had the gate open and a car waiting for us.

“So, are you going to tell me where we’re going?” I asked once we were both in. The car gently started forward and began its course. Tom just gave me a smug look.

“I thought it best to leave you in suspense,” he smiled. “But, I will tell you, it’s a night of celebrations.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. What could he mean by that?

As we drove to the unknown destination, Tom asked me about my time with my family and what we did. He then shared about spending time with his family, celebrating Christmas with his mother.

“That’s what I wasn’t sure about bringing up. I mean I didn’t know if I should wait until later or do it tonight,” he rushed. I gave him a questioning look. “Well, I talked to my mom about you. A lot, actually. She would love for us to come out so she can meet you.”

I know I should be nervous or worried, but I really wasn’t. I was actually hoping to meet someone from his family on this trip, since he’s just about met everyone in mine. “I would love that, Tom.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” I snuggled closer to him as he put an arm around my shoulders. “Besides, how else am I going to get to see baby pictures of you?”


	41. Chapter 41

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I never expected to coordinate my chapters to actual real life events so well, but hey, I can't complain! I'll be posting another update as well since this event is drawn out in two chapters. And well, because, you know, I can!!! :)

The first stop on our “Party 2014 away” tour was to a party hosted by Tom’s talent agency, WME. We traveled across town to a fancy three-story building that resembled a smaller version of Buckingham Palace, to me at least. 

After Tom helped me out of the car, we walked up the entry way to the building hand in hand — him leading the way while I marveled at the decorations decked out in sparkles and white lights. Warmth enveloped us into a hug as we entered the building, with music and laughter filling the air. I hadn’t realized how cold it was outside until we entered the building; and suddenly, I was very happy to be inside. 

Tom was soon greeted by a few people he knew from the WME office in London, including one of his agents, Charles. They greeted each other with a hug before Tom quickly introduced me. 

“It’s so nice to finally meet you, Kate,” he said while taking me hand. I was surprised that he wasn’t British since he was based in the London office. “Tom’s told us a few wonderful things about you.” 

“Oh, well thank you,” I said. I never know how to respond in these situations — thank you? Tom’s so sweet. Or, one that I’ve been wanting to try out: I know. I’m pretty awesome. Awkwardness aside, the conversation carried on, with Tom and Charles dominating it. I was fine with that. 

“Forgive me Kate, but I can’t help to have read that you’re moving to Fullerton,” Charles said once the conversation about Tom’s upcoming schedule was over. “I used to live in Fullerton, before I met my wife and moved here.”

“Really?” I suddenly got really excited, causing Tom to jump. “What a small world. I’ve only just begun settling in, so I haven’t been in Fullerton yet. Anything I should know?”

“Yes. The Brownstone Café is the best place for breakfast.”

We talked a few more minutes about life in Fullerton before Charles was called away. Tom took the opportunity to put his hand on the small of my back and lead me to the bar, where he ordered two champagnes. I raised an eyebrow at the choice.

“Champagne?” I asked. “You did say we were celebrating tonight. You just haven’t said what.”

Tom gave me a smirk and handed over the flute of light amber liquid. “And it’s not yet time for the big reveal.”

“Tease,” I whispered as I took a sip.

“Takes one to know one.”

It’s a good thing I swallowed my sip of champagne, otherwise it would be coming up from my nose. I slipped my arm back through his as we walked around the rooms and greeted other people with WME, including agents and other actors — including Emma Watson, which I’m not going to lie, I had to suppress my inner fangirl. (And because I know you want to know: she was a dream — sweet, caring, passionate and hilarious.)

We were at WME’s party for nearly three hours, but it only felt like minutes. Everyone was welcoming and warm. Much, much different from our next destination: Hamilton Hodell. 

When we entered the building, the atmosphere was much different from WME. There was no music playing in the distance nor decorations, but there were people talking in small groups. It was still a party, but just not as festive as WME’s. 

“I just need to say hi to a few people,” Tom whispered, leading me through the room. “Then we can go.”

Tom lead us to the back of the building, where we were greeted by a few people along the way. Tom happily introduced me to each person, their names all blurring into one. After we just finished our conversation with an actor-friend of Tom’s, we were welcomed with a shrieking sound, which caused Tom to laugh.

“I thought you weren’t coming. You were still in Paris?” Tom replied, hugging the girl tightly to him. Once he released her, I noticed she had the same smile as Tom, as well as his dark blonde hair. “Kate, this is my sister, Emma.”

Instead of a polite hello, Emma threw her arms around my neck and pulled me into a tight hug. “It’s so good to finally meet you, Kate. I’ve heard so much about you.”

“You, too,” I genuinely responded, finding it hard to raise my arms to hug her back. Emma had a really good grip.

She took my hand in hers and led me into the room while addressing Tom. “You go and finish talking to all your friends. Kate and I will be in here.”

Not one to argue, Tom just simply agreed and shook his head at his younger sister before walking down the hall. Emma led me over to the couch tucked under a window in an office. While I was finally excited to meet a member of Tom’s family, I was a little bit nervous. While she may be the youngest of the Hiddleston bunch, I could tell she was really protective of her brother. I respected that.

“I can’t believe I’m finally meeting you,” Emma said while gazing at me, which I’m not going to lie, made me kind of uncomfortable. “I thought it would be forever until he would introduce you to us. Tom talks non-stop about you. We went to lunch last week and he talked the whole time about you.”

“Really? How boring.”

“No, not at all. It’s cute, actually. I’ve never seen him this happy,” Emma said, the smile on her face growing larger. “His face lights up whenever he talks about you.”

I couldn’t stop the smile from appearing on my own face. Instead, I looked at the ground as I felt the blush form on my cheeks. “I don’t know what to say. That’s sweet; thanks for telling me.”

“I just want him to be happy,” Emma told me. “He really deserves someone that makes him happy.”

I took Emma’s hand in mine and gave it a squeeze. “I have a brother, too. And I know exactly what you mean. I hardly ever see him, but I’m fiercely protective over him.” Emma nodded her head, like she understood. “But don’t worry. Tom makes me really happy and I hope I make him happy. I would never hurt him. He’s a keeper.”

“I know. Thank you.”

Our conversation then turned about Emma’s vacation in Paris with friends. She had just finished filming a British television show and thought it would be best to take a break. As she talked, I noticed how similar her facial expressions and mannerisms were to Tom’s. I was immediately put at ease, and even managed to laugh at a few stories she told. 

“Does all this laughing mean you’re telling embarrassing stories about me?” Tom asked as he came into the room. I hadn’t realized we had been talking for nearly an hour.

“You’re safe. For now,” Emma teased. “Are we leaving?”

“Yes. I have a reservation for us at The Red Lion,” he said, taking my hand in his and wrapping his other arm around Emma’s shoulders. 

“Oh, so fancy. I should roll with you two more often.”

I chuckled at Tom and Emma’s banter, which reminded me of the typical conversations Zach and I would have. It continued in the car as we made our way to the restaurant. I stayed quiet as the two laughed, teased and talked, simply watching the scenery as passed by. While the office parties were in a busy, populated part of town, we were getting closer to the heart of London. There were more buildings, lights and people — tons of people! 

My eyes widened once I saw Big Ben in the distance. The last time I was in London, I told Tom this was my favorite landmark in England — next to the old castles. Once the clock tower began to grow larger, I realized that we going to be dining nearby. I looked over to Tom, who had apparently been watching me the whole time, and smiled. He simply put my hand to his mouth and kissed it. 

He’s a keeper, for sure.


	42. Chapter 42

[Happy New Year!!! xoxo](http://www.pinterest.com/pin/121386152432634981/)

                                                                                                         ---------------------

The Red Lion restaurant and tavern sits directly across from Big Ben, giving us the perfect view of the fireworks show that would be happening at midnight. We had a spectacular view, with our table right in front of a large window, off to the side where no one could bother us. Besides us, there was one other table on the second floor, which I assumed was reserved for private parties.

Though our party may be small, we were mighty (something that Tom said, which I assumed was somehow related to Shakespeare. Just a hunch). Tom, Emma and I arrived first, but were soon joined by Luke and his insanely (!!) hot boyfriend, Ethan, and even Jake, whom had been spending more and more time with Tom. Even though we were one of two tables, we made up for it by filling the room with laughter, eliciting a few glances our way from the table on the other side of the room.

We were on the topic of childhood injuries and Jake had just finished telling a story about one of our adventures during his summer visits to the States, which resulted us stuck in the make shift tree house we built. Everyone was laughing when Jake recalled his heroic idea of swinging down limb by limb, only to get his pants stuck. My eyes were watering from laughing so hard.

“So how did you get down?” Luke asked.

“I climbed down the old rope we had tied to a tire for a swing,” I said, remembering how scared I was. “The rope broke just as I hit the ground, probably because I held onto it so hard. I have a scar on my hand from it.” I ran my thumb over it underneath the table. “Then I ran and got help and we got Jake down.”

“Not before taking pictures though,” Jake interjected, causing everyone to laugh once again.

“Had I known we would be talking about this, I would have brought them with me.”

“Next time!” Emma laughed.

We exchanged a few more stories before Tom changed the conversation, ordering champagne. Emma commented on how exciting it was and asked what we were celebrating.

“Don’t get your hopes up,” I said, sneaking a look a Tom. “He just orders it and refuses to tell you his secret.”

Emma laughed while Tom gently poked me in the side. He waited until everyone was given a flute of champagne before he made his toast. “I’m unbelievably lucky to be surrounded with such supportive family and friends. That’s why I’ve asked you all here tonight to help me celebrate.” He lifted his flute and licked his lips. “I’m happy to say that I am going to be in ‘The Brother’s Smith,’ directed by Mr. Martin Scorsese.”

All of us — well, except Luke, since he probably already knew — gasped at once. We then erupted into cheers and some applause.

“I wouldn’t have had faith in the project if it wasn’t for each and everyone of you,” Tom finished. He rested his eyes on me and smiled.

Emma was the first to get up and wrap her arms around Tom in a tight hug. The rest of us followed suit, with me being the last one. When it came to me, Tom tightly pulled me into his arms and kissed the side of my head. “I haven’t told you the best part yet.”

“What’s that?”

Instead of telling me, Tom announced the next phase of his plan: taking the party to the VIP bar upstairs, where we would supposedly have an even better view of Big Ben and the fireworks show. As everyone was making their way out of the room, Tom grabbed my hand and pulled me back to him, telling Jake we would be right up.

Tom walked me over to the windows, running his thumb over my knuckles. “The majority movie shoots in L.A.,” he said, his eyes glittering with excitement. “Three months, to be exact.”

“So let me get this straight, you’re going to be in L.A. While I’m living in L.A.?” A wide smile spread across Tom’s face as he enthusiastically nodded his head. “That’s the best fucking news I’ve heard all month.” Tom laughed and pulled me to him, sealing my lips with his. The kiss was starting to heat up, but then we realized where we were. We reluctantly pulled ourselves off of each other and joined the rest of the group upstairs.

The VIP bar was outside, with heated lamps surrounding the bar so no one would freeze. While it did help, the chilly wind still managed to cut right through me. I held in a shiver, but it still caught the eye of Tom, who quickly took off his leather jacket and helped it on me. I smiled at the gesture and thanked him, loving the fact that his scent from the jacket was all I could smell.

We joined the others — who were already two drinks into the affair — in a table/booth in the corner. Tom ordered straight up Jamison whiskey while I did a vodka tonic. We began telling more stories to pass the time, with the stories growing raunchier and louder with every round of drinks. A few more of Tom’s friends joined the party, to which he excitedly introduced me to them. We also made more room in our area, but were limited on seating, so I was forced to sit on Tom’s lap…rats! As I adjusted myself, I unintentionally slid over a very responsive body part.

“I wouldn’t do that too much, Darling. It’s been a while,” he hotly whispered in my air, his whiskey breath tickling my nose. He placed his hands on my thighs and held me tight to him, almost like he was daring me to do it again. So I did.

“I don’t know what you mean,” I dumbly responded. “I’m just an innocent little girl.”

He then pinched my butt. “You are anything but that.”

I squirmed once more before settling into him, my arm wrapped around his shoulders and his around my lower back. He and Luke talked about the upcoming projects on his agenda while Jake and Emma were next to them, talking to Ethan. As I surveyed the crowd of friends, I smiled. I couldn’t believe how comfortable and at peace I felt, especially given the fact that I met both his sister and closest friends all in one night.

“The show’s about to start,” someone announced. “It’s three minutes to midnight.”

All of us got up from our table and walked (or stumbled) over to the edge of the patio, getting in the perfect positioning for the show. I looked down below and was amazed to find hundreds — or maybe even thousands — of people lining the streets as far as I could see. They were all bundled up and moving around, trying to keep the cold at bay. I had forgotten it was cold, thank to Tom’s coat and five vodka tonics.

Soon, the countdown to 2015 began, two minutes out. I turned to Tom. “There’s a tradition in my family. We think of all the good things that have happened to us over the year.” Tom smiled and took my hands into his. “I think mine was that Mexican food we ate in Shreveport.” Tom chuckled and pulled me hard against him. “Or maybe all the moments we’ve spent together.”

“I like that one,” he said, followed by a kiss. We weren’t very long into our kiss before Jake pulled us apart.

“It’s not time for that yet,” he said, turning our heads to face Big Ben. Tom went for a playful punch while I tried to hold back a blush. We joined the others at the end of the patio and started the countdown.

The air felt electric, full of excitement, hope and happiness. For a brief moment, all of us — the people on the street and us high in the air — were one, all looking forward to a new year. At “one,” the color of Big Ben changed and fireworks shot into the sky. Brilliant blues, purples and silvers illuminated the pitch-black sky, as well as all of our faces.

I looked over to Tom, who was also looking at me. We picked up right where we left off, arms wrapped around each other and a searing kiss.

My 2015 was already off to a great start.


	43. Chapter 43

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally!! No more teasing ;)

My eyes fluttered open as I heard the familiar pinging noise from my phone. Soon my head was met with a dull pain as the early morning light from outside hit my eyes. I blinked a few times in order to get my bearings straight. I was back at Tom’s, tucked under his right arm. I struggled to remember the parts of last night after midnight, but did recall some more alcohol — including Jake’s great idea of whiskey shots — a little bit of dancing (more like Tom putting us all to shame) and Tom and I walking home with tiny flakes of snow making their way onto us. 

I untangled myself from Tom’s arms, giving a slight chuckle in our appearance. Tom’s jacket had been dumped on the floor by the bedroom door, while he remained fully clothed in his jeans and sweater. He turned over on his side after I undid myself from his arms, giving me a perfect view of his messy bed head hair. 

I quietly padded across the room to my clutch — how did it get way over here? — and pulled out my phone, answering it quickly so it wouldn’t wake Tom up. I ducked into the bathroom and shut the door, swiping my phone alive. I had some text messages from Zach, family and friends on the East Coast, meaning it just hit midnight there. 

At about ten after five a.m. — ugh! — I called my mom, beating her to the punch. 

“Happy New Year, honey!” My mother’s sing-song-ey voice flowed through the receiver part of my phone. I put down the lid of the toilet and sat on it, somehow managing to smile despite my rude awakening.

“You, too. Is everyone there still?” 

By everyone, I mean my huge extended family. My mom is one of seven of a very close family. Since my mother owns a restaurant, she often hosts the family there for holidays and special occasions. This is the first New Year’s I have missed in over a decade. It felt kind of weird.

“Yes, no one has left yet,” my mom said. “They all want to talk to you, too.”

I smiled. I’ve been a resident of LA now for just over a month. I missed my family so much. “Tell them all I miss them,” I stifled a yawn. “I don’t know if I can talk to everyone.”

“Did you just wake up? I thought you would up and getting ready to swim.”

“That was the plan, but seeing as I didn’t even get in until a couple of hours ago, I don’t think that will be happening,” I yawned again. “Tomorrow, maybe.”

My mom and I talked a few minutes more about the family party and my time in London so far. I told her about my visit with her brother here in London, as well as my evening with Tom. After exchanging our “I love yous” and a “be safe” from my mom, we said goodbye. 

As I got up to exit the bathroom and go back to bed, I caught my reflection in the mirror and gasped. My dress was slightly wrinkled, but still looked somewhat presentable. My makeup and hair, however, was out of control. My hair was no longer pulled back; instead, pieces of hair were sticking out while the twist was sliding down the back of my head. My eyeliner was smudged all around my eyes, giving a whole new meaning to raccoon eyes. 

“This is not a good look,” I mumbled to myself. I took the few bobby pins out of my hair and ran my fingers through my locks, kicking myself that my comb was out in the living room with the rest of my luggage. I turned on the faucet and splashed some cold water on my face, using a bar of soap on the counter to take off my makeup. I gave myself a hard look in the mirror, much happier with what was staring back. 

“Now, back to bed,” I said to no one in particular. 

As quietly as I could, I opened the door and tiptoed back to bed. I pulled back the bedding and slid a leg in when Tom turned around and opened an eye to look at me.

“What’s going on?” his sleep-ridden voice was adorable. He lifted his head to look at me, still struggling to open his other eye. 

“Nothing, my mom just called,” I covered myself up and rolled on my side to look at him. “We forgot about the whole time change.”

Tom’s arms once again found me and pulled me to him. He pressed a kiss to my head and sighed. I felt his hand run over the small of my back, up and down in a soothing pattern. “I thought last night was a dream, especially when I woke up and you were gone.”

I smiled, meeting his fully open eyes. “Well, actually, I was just visiting my other boyfriend. The whole mom thing was a front.”

He pinched my butt and I squirmed, laughing into his mouth as he kissed me. I just loved his kisses. They were delicate, but firm. Meaningful, yet playful. We were a perfect fit when we kissed, our lips melting into one.

While the kiss started out slow and passionate, it soon escalated to quick nips. As his hands began to wander up my back and over my arms, my mind drifted. Tom and I haven’t yet had sex, mainly because we haven’t spent a lot of time together. I definitely wanted more and I think it was safe to say Tom did too. But I really wanted our relationship to last. I didn’t want to rush into anything.

 _Why not now?_ the little voice in the back of my head said. Welcome back, sexy Kate. _You’re in bed with a guy you really like and you’re kicking off a new year. Why not start it with a bang?_ Interesting choice of words, sexy Kate. _And he looks really, really hot._ Indeed.

I could tell Tom was testing the boundaries, exploring my mouth with his tongue and my body with his hands. Everywhere his hands touched set my body on fire. I wanted to let him know it was okay, that I, too, wanted more, so I pulled my leg up — as best as I could in this tight dress — allowing him to get closer to my body. 

He kissed me for a couple more beats before pulling back, breathless. He stared into my eyes with an intensity I’ve never seen from him before, then down at my lips as his right hand found the hem of my dress. “Kate, can I — ?”

“Yes!” I cut him off, way more forcefully than I expected myself to. “I can’t wait any longer.”

“Me either,” he said, his fingers moving up my legs. The pads tickled me as they found their way upward. “I don’t know what I would have done if you said no.”

I snickered. “Taken another cold shower?”

I gave him a smile and lifted my head to meet his lips once more. He smiled against my lips, no doubt excited for what was about to go down. 

As soon as I gave Tom permission, a certain body part of his swelled to attention. I could feel it against my thigh as Tom changed his body’s position, hovering over me. It was rock hard, straining against his pants. He continued to kiss me for a few more minutes before turning his attention to my neck. I had to bite my lip from laughing as his morning beard and breath tickled my neck. That’s where I’m most ticklish. 

I curled my toes when I felt his fingers slip under my dress, making their way up the insides of my legs. My breath was becoming more labored as my brain anticipated what was to come. I was expecting Tom to push my dress up, take off my underwear and go to town; but instead, he let out a frustrated growl. He couldn’t get the dress up all the way past my thighs. 

“I can’t seem to get it,” he grumbled. “Fuck!”

I should have done something to help. I should have said something encouraging. Instead, I let out a laugh. And I kept laughing. This really was our luck. First we have an ocean keeping us apart and now all it comes down to is a thin piece of fabric? It’s quite comical. 

“It’s too tight,” I said in-between laughs. I sat up, causing Tom to move back with another frustrated huff. One-track mind, I tell you. “Just un-zip it.” I turned to give Tom better access to the zipper on my back. He grabbed it with his hand and eagerly pulled it down, pulling away the folds of my dress like a candy wrapper. 

He laid me back down and began open-mouth kissing the exposed skin of my body as he slowly pulled the dress down. First it was my shoulders, then my chest, followed by my stomach and hips. Once the dress was fully off, Tom threw it behind him and sat up, his eyes running over my body. Thank god I wore matching lingerie — black lace panties and a nearly see-through black lace bra. Normally I just grab whatever my hand grabs first.

Tom had seen my body in barely-there clothing before, but this time, it was different. It was only for him. _My boyfriend._ A strange warmth ran over me as Tom looked at me, actually seeing me. I felt somewhat exposed, but covered at the same time. I could feel his passion and energy radiating off him and into me, causing me to blush.

“You’re so beautiful,” Tom whispered, pressing a kiss to my lips. He cupped my face with his hand, our eyes set on each other. “How did I get so lucky?”

I smiled as another blush spread across my cheeks. “We’re both lucky.” 

“I’ve wanted to do this since I first met you,” he mumbled. “When I first saw you in that teasing dress.”

I chuckled. So I was right! He was eye-fucking me! His blue eyes continued to stare into mine, like they were reading every thought in my mind. 

“You know, you have a half-naked girl in your bed and you’re not doing anything about it,” I reminded him after a while.

He gave a little laugh and kissed me again, drawing a moan from my body. I decided to be brave and rest my hands on his hips, clutching the fabric of his pants. He placed his left hand over my right and slowly moved it over, covering his hard member. _Is this really happening?_

“Do you feel that? You do that to me. I want you so much, Kate,” he moaned against my lips. “I need you. More than I’ve ever needed anything before.”

I daringly stoked my hand against his member, causing him to gasp. His breath caught in his throat as I stroked once more, harder this time. He closed his eyes and his mouth gaped open, like he was mentally coaching himself to keep it together.

“Yet here you are, still fully clothed,” I whispered back. I kissed him this time, pulling at his lower lip with my teeth. 

Like a shot from a gun, Tom quickly whipped his sweater off and began working on his belt buckle. While he struggled with that, I took time to admire his chest. Since I Saw the Light was done filming, Tom had started to put more of his muscle back on. His chest and abs were becoming more defined and his biceps were a little bit larger. I couldn’t wait to rub my hands across those areas.

I soon laughed as he furiously kicked his pants off, growing more frustrated when they wouldn’t cooperate. Just as I got up from my position to help, Tom yanked them off and pushed me back down, pulling my bra straps down. He unhooked my bra in one fluid movement and tossed it to the ground.

Being a full-time athlete, my chest region wasn’t as fully developed as many other women. That’s side the downside of being I swimmer, I suppose. While I barely filled out a B cup, that didn’t stop Tom from expressing his sheer enthusiasm. His large hands covered my breasts in a perfect fit, his thumbs massaging over my erect nipples. 

He took one in his mouth as he kept his hand on the other. I reacted by closing my eyes and biting my lip. _God, he’s good._ His free hand made its way down my body and to my center, his fingers stroking against my panties, just as I had done to him earlier. 

“Oh, god, Tom,” I moaned, saying it more like a prayer. His hand picked up speed as his mouth switched to my other breast, sucking and nibbling. I didn’t know what sensation to concentrate on. Lucky for me, Tom couldn’t concentrate on both for much longer either. 

He kissed down my stomach and stopped at the line where my underwear met my skin. He looked up at me with that same intense stare from earlier before peeling the underwear off and putting his mouth there. My fingers clutched the sheet below me and I tried to keep my legs from flying up. 

Oh fuck. That first touch was like electricity, sending a wave of pleasure sizzling through me. Another joined it and then another. Soon, I could feel nothing else save the vortex roaring inside me.

Rather than focus on my clit straight away like I’d expected, he worked the length of me, caressing my dripping opening with long, soft strokes and occasionally slipping inside to fuck me with his tongue.

“My god,” he said. “You’re just as delicious as I imagined.”

I could only moan in reply, grinding myself against him. The thought of him thinking about this — alone, possibly before he went to bed every night — made me feel powerful.

His deft tongue worked magic in my core, teasing, tasting and devouring. He alternated between licking and sucking, his every movement driving me crazy. My breathing had become more labored and didn’t show any sign of getting under control. I tried to coach myself to take deep breaths, like I do in a race, but my mind wouldn’t listen. I felt like I was coming apart at the seams, like every stroke, every lick was peeling away just a little bit more of me.

“Come on, baby,” I heard Tom whisper in-between licks and sucks. “Come for me.” 

After his fifth or sixth whisper-moan, I lost it. I felt the orgasm begin just below my belly, growing more powerful once it hit my core. It lasted nearly a minute. Tom kissed his way up my body before reaching his destination of my lips. I happily met him, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him to me. 

“That was amazing,” I whispered between kisses. My chest heaved up and down, trying to find normal once again. Whatever that was.

He smiled back and kissed my nose, bringing an even bigger smile to my face. “If you liked that, you should see my next act.”

He leaned back and found the waste band of his underwear, pulling and kicking it off. His penis sprung free from its confinement, a few beads of cum already finding their way out. I was rendered speechless. I knew he was big — hello, we’ve all seen pictures of the infamous Cannes blue pants — but I didn’t know he was _this_ big. Huge! I estimated eight or nine inches, but even that may have been shorting him.

Tom stroked his member as he dug around in his bedside table, pulling out a condom. He ripped open the packet and expertly rolled it over his length. His hand found my hip as his other hand rested at the base of his dick. He gave me another look before slowly pushing into my center, a ripple of pleasure surging through my body. 

His eyes never left mine.

My body stretched to accommodate him and the bite of his entry soon gave way to a deeper hunger. He slid in bit by bit until he was fully in, allowing my body to form to his. As I finally adjusted to his size, he began to move around. With every couple of thrusts, Tom went a little bit deeper, bringing me closer to the edge each time. My back involuntarily arched as he pulled his hard length out before pushing back in. A few more moans left our mouths as Tom repeated the process, his hands never leaving my hips. I could tell he was close to release, just as I was. 

As gracefully as I could, I pulled myself up into a sitting position, and covered Tom’s lips with mine. He took one hand off my hip to cradle my face. I could taste the sweat that lined his upper lip, mixed with a hint of whisky from last night’s festivities. His body crushed against mine, grinding my clit while his cock hammered my G-spot. The sensation was remarkable and unlike anything I have ever felt before. As impossible as it seemed, I could feel another orgasm rearing up inside of me. 

He was clearly not far away either. His breath was coming in little spurts and there was a low growl emanating from his throat. His hips worked like an out of control piston, steadily gaining force. His thrusts became wilder and his fingers tightened, digging into my skin. His hand moved to the back of my neck as he thrust a few more times, his lips hovering over mine. 

“I’m close,” he panted. “Fuck, Kate.”

Hearing his voice, laced with lust and pleasure, was just the right trigger to set me off. I clutched Tom’s shoulders, my nails leaving little half moon indents, and buried my face in the crook of his neck as I felt my orgasm begin. It was even more magical than the one before. I saw stars as I moaned out Tom’s name, instant pleasure racing through my body. I hadn’t thought it possible, but this orgasm was even more intense. It tore through my body like a tidal wave, curling my toes and leaving me breathless and limp. 

Tom’s large hand held my head in place as he laid me back down. With a final pump, he exploded inside me. His back arched and his eyes flared as I clenched around him. Tom collapsed halfway on top of me and moaned through his release. A smile spread across my face, knowing that I was the reason for that voice of pleasure. We both attempted to catch our breaths before we said anything else. I was pleased to see he looked as drained as I did; face flushed, body slicked with sweat. 

“Every morning I wake up after this will pale in comparison,” Tom gasped out, drawing me close to him. 

I kissed him a few more times before resting my forehead against his, completely exhausted. Instead of saying anything, I closed my eyes and felt sleep overtake me. I wanted to stay awake, but my eyes wouldn’t cooperate. They just kept closing. 

The last thing I remember was Tom pulling the sheets over us and him pressing a kiss to my forehead, ushering me back to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ....hope everyone enjoyed! (This was my first written sex scene, so I hope it read ok!!)


	44. Chapter 44

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! So glad to see that SO many people liked that last chapter ;) Here's another one just like it!
> 
> Also, I may be back down to updates once a week. I've been trying to write some more and get chapters built up, but I have been just so busy with work and fighting off a cold that I haven't had much time. But on the positive side, I am working to make the chapters a bit longer so the story won't be like 100 chapters! That's a bit extreme, I think!
> 
> Anyways, enjoy!

I woke up alone in Tom’s bed, much different from earlier. I wiped sleep from my eyes as I surveyed the room, which looked much different in the daylight pouring in from the windows up above. I pulled the sheet closer to my naked body as I sat up and scanned the room for an alarm clock, finding one that read 10:47 a.m. This is the latest I’ve slept in for a while.

I got up from the bed — wincing as my muscles flared with a subtle burn — finding Tom’s sweater still on the ground and slipped it on. I walked into the living room and kitchen before checking out the rest of the flat, not finding Tom anywhere. I was about to give up and lay back in bed when I saw a piece of paper on the bedside table. 

_Gone for a run, my love. Help yourself to anything. x_

I didn’t want to make any food until Tom was back, mainly since I had no idea how to work his stove. Instead, I opted to bring my bags into Tom’s room and take a shower. I pulled out a clean pair of underwear and bra, a dark wash pair of jeans and a long-sleeve purple shirt made of jersey material from my suitcase. I stripped off Tom’s sweater and put it on his bed before shuffling over to the bathroom and starting the shower. 

The warm spray felt amazing. Water would always be my home, whether it be in the pool or in a shower. The water had a way of clearing my head and allowing me to think. And today’s thoughts were all about Tom: how his hair felt under my fingers, his lips on my skin and how he felt inside me. I was just about to relive the memory with my fingers until I heard the bathroom door open and close, followed by the sound of clothes being discarded. 

He popped open the glass door and smiled at me. I squinted my eyes at him, not wanting to get the lather from the shampoo in them. “Hey! You’re letting all the steam out.”

I scooted over and he quickly got in, wrapping his arms around my stomach and placing kisses to the back of my neck. In just a short period of time, I felt like our relationship had grown ten fold. I felt closer to him than ever. 

“This is a first,” I said to Tom. 

“I think we should do this every day,” he responded, grabbing his shampoo from behind my head. 

I rinsed my hair out while he lathered up his, his eyes enjoying the view, no doubt. I’m sure for some girls, this interaction would be unnerving, but for me, it was nothing. I live in swimsuits. Being nude was not any different to me. 

And I couldn’t complain about my view either. His hair was soaking wet and plastered against his face in pieces and the water ran off his chest in streams. It was pure sex. I could stare at him for hours, wet, dry, dirty or clean. I’m not picky.

“Where did you go?”

“I went for a run around the park.”

“A run?” I shifted spots with Tom, allowing him to rinse his hair as I conditioned mine. “You didn’t get enough exercise earlier?”

He chuckled, finishing the rinse before responding. “I still had some,” he paused, choosing his words carefully, I think. “Pent up emotions that I had to sort through.”

“You know, you could have woke me up,” I said in a teasing voice voice, rinsing the conditioner out. “I could use the extra cardio work.”

“No, you needed to sleep,” he said, followed by more shuffling. I already decided if Tom wanted to do this more, he needs a larger shower. “But if you’re wanting more cardio, I may have a solution.”

“And what may that be?”

Tom’s answer was pulling me to him and sealing his lips over mine. My hands slid up his strong arms before finding their home along his shoulders. It was a new sensation for me, our bodies slick with water and pressed against each other. My nipples became very erect with the sensation. My mouth also went dry as I felt Tom’s erection resting just below my belly. Suddenly, the room felt fifty degrees hotter than it was. 

Tom’s hands began to caress down my body, resting on my hips while his lips began to work down the column of my throat. I braced myself for another earth shattering orgasm (hey, it was inevitable) by holding on to the shower’s built in soap dish. Hopefully that would hold. 

Tom ran his dick along my entrance, testing to see how wet I was, before pulling back. My eyes opened in frustration. “I didn’t grab a condom,” he said, about to head out of the shower. 

“I get a birth control shot every three months,” I pulled him back to me. “I’m good if you’re good.”

Tom didn’t vocalize his answer; instead, he entered me. My eyes closed in pleasure and my back arched involuntarily. It was the best feeling in the world, Tom in me without any barrier. I felt closer than ever. Once Tom was fully in, he lifted my left leg and wrapped it around his waist, going even deeper than I thought possible. I threw my head back and cried out Tom’s name. 

“That’s it, I want you to take all of me,” he said, his lips back on my neck.

“God, yes. Keep going,” I replied, rocking my hips back and forth, easing him deeper still.

“You feel so fucking good,” he moaned, bracing himself against the wall behind me and hoisting my leg a little bit higher. Had I known we would have been doing this, I would have stretched beforehand. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

I ran my fingers through Tom’s wet hair, pushing back the pieces that were stuck to his forehead. With a few more thrusts I felt the orgasm begin. It soon grew into a crescendo, making my legs go weak, my muscles turn to jelly and Tom’s name come out of my mouth multiple times. Tom held onto me tightly as I went through my orgasm, his head buried in my neck. Tom soon joined me as he released his load into my body, which hungrily took everything he had. 

We were quite the pair, both heavily panting; every inch of our bodies soaking wet. When Tom pulled out of me and put my leg down I shivered, realizing that we lost our hot water sometime during our “exercise.” I don’t even remember when that happened. 

Tom quickly turned the water off and grabbed us towels from the nearby cabinet. Silently, he wrapped a towel around my body before drying his body off and loosely fastening a towel around his waist. Suddenly I had to fight the urge to rip it off. Instead, I pulled Tom back to me and captured his lips in a sweet kiss. He held my face in his hands as he passionately kissed me back.

He parted from me a few minutes later, his chest heaving and his eyes deeply set on mine. As I looked into his eyes, I noticed a flicker of something; something I’ve never seen before in him. Lust? Passion? I had no clue. 

“What’s wrong?” I said, just above a whisper. 

He opened his mouth to say something, but quickly closed it. “Nothing. Nothing at all,” he replied, shaking his head of the thoughts. “I was just thinking that I have to pack if we’re leaving early in the morning.”

Tom got out of the shower and bathroom and began rummaging around in his room, for a suitcase I assumed. I finished drying off and went through my normal morning routine — styling my hair, brushing my teeth and putting on make up — all while wondering what was bothering Tom.


	45. Chapter 45

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is SO late in getting posted. I only have a few chapters written ahead and I haven't felt inspired to write anymore. :/ Ugh! Don't you just hate it when that happens?!?

Tom and I were up early the next morning in order to get to the airport and catch our flight to Germany. However, my since my main sponsor is awesome, Adidas picked us up with a private jet, which would take us to and from Germany. Adidas also picked us up at Tom’s flat with a car, which was now speeding across the tarmac to drop us off at the plane. 

“Have I ever told you how much I love your sponsor?” Tom asked while helping me out from the back seat of the car. I shielded my eyes from the early morning sun as I looked at the plane. 

“I’m glad you wanted to come with me,” I said. “It would have been very boring otherwise.” Tom kissed the top of my head before slipping his arm around my waist. “And you never know — you may even become a member of the mile high club.”

He laughed before slyly answering, “what if I’m already a member?”

I stopped walking and gaped at him. “Tom Hiddleston! Is there something you need to tell me?”

He laughed even more, making it hard for him to walk. “I’m joking!” I didn’t care, I swatted his butt as we made our way up the steps to the plane. “Hey now, baby, don’t start something you can’t finish.”

Once we were inside the plane, we were greeted by Helen, director of Adidas’ swimming “department,” and Stella McCartney, who had been helping me create my own swimming line. She had developed many other athletic lines through Adidas and jumped at the chance to help me once it was announced I was going to create a swimwear line. I introduced them both to Tom before we got settled into the plane. 

Tom took a seat over by the window, ear buds in his ears and his phone playing his favorite music, while I sat at a table with Helen and Stella, going over the newest images of swimsuits on a large iPad. Stella and I had been corresponding for three months now with designs and colors, finally finalizing the summer collection three weeks ago. I was amazed they already had template suits made up. 

There were some two-piece and one-piece suits with cheetah print, some neon colors and bright floral designs. But my favorite suit was probably the two-piece gold suit, reminding me of a gold medal. Normally the shiny gold would remind me of a porn star, but the suit was simple, but really elegant and fun.

“Once we get into Herzogenaurach, we’ll get you in some of the suits and take some pictures,” Helen said. “We’ll use some for the marketing campaign, in addition to some model shots. We need to get started as soon as possible if we want to be ready for summer.”

We went over more plans about the swimsuit line, as well as what I would be doing the rest of the trip. While today would be filled with swimsuit stuff, tomorrow I would be testing out new racing suits in the lab, which would probably take the whole day. Then, I would be leaving the next morning…when would I spend time with Tom? I looked over and saw him nodding off.

“I think we’re good until we get to headquarters. Then you can finalize suits once you see them, Kate,” Stella said.

I looked back to her and smiled. “Sounds great. Thank you so much for everything, Stella.”

I joined Tom over by the window, slipping into the seat next to him resting my head on his shoulder. Without even missing a beat, Tom wrapped his arm around me, resting it just under my chest. We sat like that for the last portion of the flight, happy to finally get out of the plane, only to be welcomed with freezing wind.

We quickly exited the plane and got into a nearby helicopter, which would take us directly to Adidas’ headquarters. Once our luggage was loaded, Tom and I took off in one helicopter while Helen and Stella were in the second. This was always my favorite part of the journey, watching Germany from down below. I looked over to Tom, to see if he was enjoying the ride; instead, I found him looking a tad bit scared. 

“Are you okay?” I asked him, lacing my fingers through his. 

“Uh, yeah, I just, it’s just,” he peered over me to the window. “I’m not overly fond of helicopters.” 

_When the hell had he been in a helicopter?_ Then it hit me…the Jaguar commercials. He told me about how he had to lean out of a helicopter, then jump out as it hovered over the ground. I bit back my laughter in order to give my boyfriend some support. “I’m not going to make you jump out of it. I promise.”

Tom shot me a look, then went back to looking out the window. “It’s pretty windy outside.”

“Tom, we’re fine.”

“I feel like it’s really windy. Like too windy.”

I took his head in my hands and forced him to look at me. “It’s going to be okay. Just close your eyes. We’ll be landing before you know it.” Tom did as I instructed; blowing out of a long breath. God, he was really scared. Remind me to suggest taking a car to the airport on our way out. 

We landed ten agonizing minutes later, with Tom jumping out once the door was opened. I followed, trying to bite back a chuckle. “So, I should scratch skydiving off our bucket list?”

“That’s a big yes.”

Once we were all on Adidas’ rooftop, we went down the elevator to the main level of the building. Helen led us down the hall to a large business room, with a number of bright fabrics on display. _My swimsuits!_

“We’ll need to finalize them today and get some photos,” Helen said while picking up some of the suits. “We have a room set up for some close up shots. Then we’ll use the pool out back for the rest.”

Helen, Stella and a couple of other people began picking up the suits and taking them to the other room. I turned to Tom, who was casually looking over some of the suits. Getting some ideas, are we? “I’m sure they can have someone take you to the hotel, if you want. In a car, not a helicopter.”

“No, I’m fine here,” Tom chuckled. “Besides, if I opted to go back to the hotel instead of watching a beautiful woman in a swimsuit, my ‘man card’ would be revoked.”

“Well, we can’t have that.”


	46. Chapter 46

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A birthday update!!!
> 
> (And it looks like the Tom-pocalypse is upon us — the first wave, that is! All of these photos and videos of him have me feeling some sort of way! Enjoy the update! ;) )

The afternoon flew by at the photo shoot. We started out with some boring shots of me holding the swimsuits, followed by some of Stella and I acting like we were discussing them. Typical stuff you would see on a pamphlet or something. We then went over some designs and finally finalized the collection. 

“I can’t believe this is my second swimsuit collection,” I said to Stella as we walked to the pool. “I never even thought I would have a first.”

“You deserve it, Kate,” Stella told me. “You’re really good at this. I can see you designing more than swimsuits.”

“Seriously?”

“Definitely. I think you may have a future ahead of you. I would love to help you.”

Stella’s words really got thinking — is this something I could do? Should I even do something like this? I really wanted to become a translator for the U.N. (at least that was the current job flavor of the month), but could this be something to do as well? I shook my head of the thoughts. This wasn’t the right time to think of all that anyways.

“The heater in our pool area isn’t fully working, so it may be a bit chilly,” Helen said, interrupting my thoughts. It was then that I fully realized Helen and Tom were just behind us, following us and the rack of suits. 

I looked back at Tom and he smiled. He had to be bored, but he was really putting up a good front. Then again, I’ve been on set with him a handful of times and that too can be boring, so I guess we’re even.

Helen wasn’t lying about the pool — it was freezing. The air made goosebumps break out across my flesh, not to mention my nipples perk up. And I had to be in a bathing suit? Terrific. I met the photographer for the shoot, Darren, who told me to get in the lighter colored suits first. 

I took my belongings and the suits back with me to the room off of the pool, where I was met with a very familiar voice. “Why hello Miss Thing,” Donovan said.

“What are you doing here!” I jumped up and gave him a great big hug. Donovan was the absolute best. I am so glad Adidas brought him into my life. 

“I’m here to make you look even more fabulous,” he said. Then Donovan noticed Tom standing just outside the room. He lowered his voice to a whisper, “you two are?”

“Totally dating — didn’t you get my text?”

Donovan just laughed, sitting me down in his chair and beginning to work on my hair. “So, how are you two doing?”

I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face. “Good. Really good, actually. He’s amazing. He’s so genuine and romantic and compassionate. And hot.” 

“Now you’re making me jealous,” he said with a finger in the air. I just laughed, falling into a comfortable conversation about life, love and good sex while Donovan ran the curling iron through my hair. My hair had grown quite a bit since our last photo shoot; it now reached just above my armpits.

After curling my hair, Donovan ran his fingers through the curls and applied some sea salt spray to my locks. He then worked on my make up, keeping it light and natural. Donovan left the room, allowing me to quickly change into a pink one-piece suit.

After exiting the room, I tried not to think about how cold it was, nor the fact that some people were starring at me. I’ve always had a problem about being the center of attention. Simple acts of accepting a medal in front of a crowd and standing in front of a camera while watched were like standing in front of a firing squad or something. The sooner it was over, the better. 

I did take a couple glances at Tom who, much like the photo shoot in London, had his eyes solely on me. After a few poses I would look over and he would either smile or continue to stare at me with wide eyes. It was cute, in a way. 

Even though it felt like forever, the afternoon did pass with ease. We just finished shooting in a dark blue two piece and I went into the small room to change into the gold one piece — my favorite! After I got into it and Donovan helped me tie it, we were ready to take the final photos. 

“Oh! My gold medal is in my bag by Tom, could you get it for me?” I asked Donovan, remembering that Darren wanted to shoot this with one of my gold medals. I went back to fixing the suit when there was a knock on the door, followed by Tom’s head peaking through. 

“You needed this — woah!” he said, stopping once I turned to him.

I smirked, thinking back to last time he saw me in a scandalous swimsuit. “Thanks,” I took the black box from him and opened it, revealing my 200 freestyle gold medal from 2004, my very first gold.

“Here, allow me,” Tom took it from the box and straightened the ribbon before placing it over my head. As he placed it on me, he ran the back of his knuckles across my shoulders and down my chest, following the path of the colorful ribbon. “That is some suit.”

I held back a laugh. God, he made teasing him so easy, I swear. “Yeah, it’s pretty comfortable,” I said, looking down at the material, just after catching Tom’s eyes on my chest. “The material is really nice, too. Want to feel?” Instead of waiting for Tom’s response, I took his hands and ran them across my stomach and up to my breasts, which he happily cupped. 

Tom’s lips were soon on mine, capturing them in a searing kiss. “It is nice,” Tom mumbled against my lips before taking them again, not to mention his thumbs flicking my nipples. Payback. We didn’t take it any farther than a few seconds, knowing that other people were waiting on us. “Do you get to keep the suit?”

I took a quick look in the mirror and adjusted it once more. I looked to Tom and smiled, seeing some lipstick at the corner of his mouth. I wiped it off with my thumb before responding. “I think so. This and a couple others.”

He caught my hand and kissed the pad of my thumb. It was a really sweet gesture; so much, that my breath caught in my throat. No guy had ever done anything that sweet. Then, his voice turned just a little bit sinister; his Loki, you could say. “Good. I look forward to taking it off of you tonight.”


	47. Chapter 47

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I saw a prompt on Tumblr saying "on the floor," so I kind of used that as a guide for this chapter. And, of course, Kate's love of pillow forts. XD Enjoy! Leave me some feedback, if you can! :)

My first night in Germany was amazing, thanks to Tom and his endless energy. After dinner, we had all the intentions of walking around Herzogenaurach with the snow lightly falling on us. However, after a few looks and some kisses, we opted to go back to our hotel room and spend the rest of the night under the covers.

Today, however, was much different. I woke up at four in the morning to head to Adidas, leaving a comfortable, warm bed — not to mention a gorgeous naked man. After getting my things together, I walked outside to a mini-blizzard before getting in the awaiting car. I heard about snow being expected today, but didn’t think it would be this bad. Good thing Adidas’ headquarters was only two blocks down the way.

My day started out in the smaller training pool with the workout sets I had been doing the previous week. I would be leaving for home in a couple days and had yet to swim this whole trip. Hopefully Rick didn’t have spies watching me. 

After nearly three hours in the pool, I made my way to the other side of headquarters, where I was met by the people behind the scenes: scientists, technicians and designers. Helen was the first to welcome me and fill me in one what we would be doing today: going over the materials of the work out gear and suits — a top secret design that wouldn’t be released to the public for another year — testing to see how they affect my performance and go over what other materials could be custom made to fit my form. 

After the designers showed me the newest racing suit, promised to give me high results in my swimming performance, I changed into it and hopped into the pool. Along the sides of the pool was glass, which allowed the scientists to analyze and critique the suit. (And yes, I did feel like an exhibit at Sea World, thanks for asking.)

I went through my normal routine, warming up slow before doing some more intense swimming. The suit felt pretty good. It helped me cut through the water really well and even resisted the waves I made as I flip turned against the wall. It was already much better than my current racing suits, only making me ticked off that I wouldn’t have this until next year. 

When I took a break from swimming, the technicians came to the deck and measured my heart rate, lactic level and pulse, for what I had no idea. Then they weighed me, noting that the suit hardly held any water in its material, which I guess was good? I jumped back in the water after I was instructed to do so, swimming for another hour. 

I was so happy when we broke for lunch. I was exhausted and my arms were starting to hurt — and I still had to go through my work out regimen with the new workout gear. _I’m totally counting this as two separate swimming times,_ I said to myself. _Rick can just deal with it._

I was just finishing with my grilled chicken salad when Helen came over with two bags full of stuff. “We’re releasing the work out gear earlier than we expected,” she said. “We’ll still fit you for your items today, but I thought your brother and Tom would like some stuff.” 

I looked into the bags — athletic shorts, pants, tops and shoes. “They’ll love this. Thanks, Helen.”

“Anytime,” she smiled a little bit bigger. “Tom is such a wonderful man. He was a joy to have on set yesterday. And he couldn’t take his eyes off you.”

I laughed. “Well, a girl in a bikini would do that to any guy, I suppose.”

“No, it wasn’t you he was looking at,” she said, adjusting the items in the bag. “Well, he was looking at you, but not at you, if that makes sense. I don’t think his eyes ever left your face. Stella and I noticed it right away. He was in awe of you.”

I didn’t know how to respond. I just mumbled my thanks as she left. How did I not notice the way Tom was looking at me? This was the second day he was acting strange, but over what? I couldn’t think about it now, as the second half of my day was beginning and I had to focus on training. I took the two bags full of items and left them in my locker before changing into the brightly colored athletic wear I was given. Obviously neon colors were a thing this year. 

After changing into the pants, sports bra and warm up jacket, I made my way to the weight room and began to perform the tasks I was asked. I lifted weights, ran on the treadmill, did leg presses and countless pushups. I gave everything I had in the weight room and was left with an ounce of energy. _I’m totally counting this as two cardio sessions._ But I had to say, the workout gear was pretty awesome. 

I quickly showered and changed back into the clothes I was originally wearing and went back to the hotel. The mini-blizzard that hit the area in the morning turned into a full-fledged blizzard. Visibility was minimal and the winds were powerful, turning a five-minute drive into thirty. During the drive, the storm must have gotten even stronger, because the power was out at the hotel, and I assumed everywhere else in Herzogenaurach. 

“Un-fucking-believable,” I said under my breath. Now I had to take fifteen flights of stairs to the suite? _Fuck this. I’m counting this as another cardio session._

Once I got to the top — twenty agonizing minutes later — I shuffled into the suite, resting against the back of the door, completely exhausted. “Tom, I’m wiped. Want to order something in?”

I saw a glow from the next room, figuring it must have been lights of some sort, either from a flashlight or something from a generator. However, I wasn’t expecting what I saw when I turned the corner: nearly three dozen candles set up around the living room part of the suite, creating an amber like glow in the room. However, the very best part was the giant fort in the middle of the room, nestled between the two couches. 

I set all of my bags down by the doorway before inspecting the fort. Probably three or four sheets made the fort, which were tied off with a hodgepodge of string, ribbon and hair ties…mine to be exact. 

“Come in, darling,” I heard Tom say once I was just outside the opening. I peered in, laughing when I saw Tom lying on bed of pillows.

“You made a pillow fort?” I said, smiling at the way the candles cast an orange-like glow against his face. “Where did you get all this stuff?”

He laughed, flashing that brilliant smile of his. Even in the dark, I could see it. “The front desk and housekeeping staff were very accommodating. However, they did wonder what I was doing with twenty-seven pillows.”

I crawled into the fort, surprised at how comfortable it was. But then again, the twenty-seven pillows had to attribute for that. I leaned into Tom and gave him a kiss, which he accepted with trembling lips. “What’s wrong?” I asked. “You’ve been acting so strange the last couple days.”

“I suppose I have,” he slowly said. He was quiet for some time, so quiet in fact that I thought maybe he had already spoken and he was waiting for me to respond. I had just opened my mouth to say something when Tom butted in. “I love you, Kate. I’ve been trying to tell you for days now, but I either get scared or I can’t find the right words to say. My mouth just can’t translate what my heart feels.”

I stared at Tom, suddenly feeling my insides drop and my heart go warm. It was the weirdest sensation I had ever felt. It was a brand new feeling for me and I never wanted it to stop. Tom’s blue eyes continued to pierce into my grey ones, making me realize that I was the one who remained silent this time. _Think of something, Kate, god damn it!_ “Is that Shakespeare?” _What the fuck? Why would you say that!?_

Tom blinked. “Uh, no. Th-that was me. Tom.”

I smiled at his nervousness. I was nervous too. Finally, we were both on the same playing ground. “I like it,” I said before putting my lips to his and kissing him. After we broke apart, I kept my lips near his and whispered, “I love you too, Tom.”

“Really?” he beamed. 

“Yes!” I laughed. I ran my hands through his hair and pulled me closer to me, kissing him once more, more powerful than ever before. After a while, we separated to catch our breaths. “I can honestly say no other boyfriends have made me, well, anything.”

He smiled and pushed the damp hair out of my face before kissing me again, then once more. “I plan to be your last.”

Before I could respond — or even ask what he meant by that — Tom began kissing me again, but this time down my neck. And we all know what that means. Soon before I knew it, Tom had shed his top and mine, followed by my bra and our pants. He then went back to my neck and began kissing me all over. 

“How do I love thee?” he whispered into my neck. “Let me count the ways.” He then proceeded down my arms and hands and across my chest before recounting the next verse of Sonnet 43. “I love thee to the depth and breadth and height.”

He started to work his way down my stomach nibbling along the soft flesh of my hipbones with his teeth, followed by playful licks and sucks. Tom was truly going to be the death of _me._ “My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight. For the ends of being and ideal grace.”

“It’s good to see you know poetry other than Shakespeare,” I said with a heaving chest. “I was worried for a bit.”

I could feel him smile against my belly, followed by a low laugh. “I’m not a one trick pony.”

Tom went back to quoting Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s poem whilst kissing down my body. By the time he finished, my underwear was off and sweat was breaking out along my flesh while our pillow fort was getting a little bit muggier inside and the smell of sex was thick in the air. 

Before I knew it, my climax was pulsing through me. I clenched around him, my whole body shuddering as became impossibly bigger. He tenderly moved in me, setting up his release in time with mine. Once we were both spent, Tom collapsed onto his elbows above me and brushed soft kisses over my check and neck while my arms tabled around him. Gradually our breathing slowed and our bodies cooled, letting us return to ourselves. 

“I didn’t know,” I sighed. “That it could be like this.”

The smile that was plastered on his face slightly fell. He ran his thumb over the curve of my cheekbone before responding. “It will always be like this.”

I smiled and reclined back on the bed of pillows, staring up at the ceiling of the tent. The glow was still very much present outside of the tent, making everything so dreamy. “I’m glad we weren’t too active. I would hate to see some candles fall on the fort. I don’t think it’s fire proof,” I looked over to Tom who chuckled. “But it’s a really good fort.”

“I think I could have been an architect in another life,” he said before lightly slapping my ass. “I’m ordering food in. What do you want?”

“Surprise me,” I mumbled, feeling my eyes become heavier. He gave me a kiss on the cheek and pulled away, crawling out from the tent. I got a little thrill worshipping the back of him, his ass perfectly sculpted like every other delicious inch of him. Everything about Tom was a dream, an onslaught to my senses. 

The only thing that made it even better was knowing that he loved me.


	48. Chapter 48

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, so, so sorry that this has gone updated for so long. Life has been so busy, chaotic and stressful! I hope that some of this stress will go away soon and I will be able to get more writing done. Thanks for all the love! :)

I would have thought sometime along the trip to Tom’s mom’s house I would have calmed my nerves, but obviously my body had other plans. The drive to Suffolk from London was two hours, giving me enough time to calm my nerves, but I didn’t foresee that happening. 

Tom, on the other hand, was ecstatic. He was singing along with the music, moving his head and upper body to the beat of an Atomic Kitten song. It was nice to see him this upbeat and happy — which was honestly his whole demeanor the past couple days.

As we drove along, Tom told me some more stories about his childhood: living in both London and Suffolk, his childhood friends and what they were doing now and all the times he was in trouble as a child.

“You were a naughty little boy,” I laughed after he told me the story of how he stuck gum to his sisters’ hair as revenge.

“They weren’t so innocent either,” he retorted, shaking his head. “I’m sure you weren’t so sweet either.”

“I definitely had my moments where my mouth got me into some big trouble, but I never did anything like that,” I said, trying to think of my experiences. “Our punishment was shoveling the driveway. And we had a very long one, so I tried to avoid that at all costs.”

Tom laughed, turning from the main highway to a two-track road. He talked some more about his family — the plays he and his cousins would perform at family gatherings — while I studied the scenery around me. The English Channel was in the distance, while trees and brick houses lined the street we were on. It was such a cute and familiar part of England — somewhat reminding me of my home in Michigan.

Tom pulled into his mom’s driveway just before noon. And right on cue, the hunter green door flew open and a jovial woman came down the cobblestone path. She waved her hands at us, eagerly waiting for the car doors to open. Tom and I exited the car at the same time, with Tom greeting his mom in a hug. He was about to go in for a kiss to the top of her head when she pushed him off and came over to me.

“Kate, I am so delighted to meet you,” she said in a warm tone, followed by her enveloping me in a tight hug. “I never thought Tom would introduce me to you.” Before I or even Tom could interject, she was pulling me into the house, with Tom following behind us. “Come inside, I’ve made some lunch.”

Diana’s home was beautiful, filled with warmth and vibrant colors. She led us to the kitchen and were greeted by an amazing smell. There was fresh bread out of the oven, cheeses and meats on a tray, a salad and fruit platter, as well as a pie and pudding of some sort. Diana ushered me to take a seat at the table and even swatted Tom’s hand away from the desserts.

After our plates were fixed, all three of us went out to the back deck, where we ate in the sunshine and watched the waves break on the nearby coast. 

“Kate, I can’t tell you how excited I am to finally meet you,” Diana said once again. “Tom just can’t stop talking about you.”

“Mum,” Tom started, making me picture a five year old boy whining to his mom. “Kate doesn’t want to hear about that.”

“Oh I don’t know about that,” I chided. 

We all laughed and changed the subject to Diana’s latest project in revitalizing the Suffolk art community. She was a major player in re-opening some local art galleries, as well as some theatre groups and other performing arts groups. We talked all through lunch about the works the local groups had performed and how it continued to blossom. 

Soon the sun disappeared behind a large cloud, making us all chilled. We moved inside for dessert, but before we could dig in, Diana stopped us. 

“Tom, I forgot to pick up whipped topping for the pie,” she said. “Could you run up and get some?”

“Sure, mum,” he got up to retrieve his jacket and keys. He turned back to me, about ready to ask if I wanted to go with, but Diana cut him off.

“Kate and I will be fine,” she shooed him with her fingers, making me chuckle. I winked at Tom before he turned and left, shaking his head the whole way. Come on, he had to of known this was coming? 

Once he was gone, I decided to be the one to break the ice. “Diana, I can’t even begin to find the words to tell you how great your son is.”

She turned to me with a beaming smile. “He is pretty fantastic.” I joined her over by the sink, helping her clear dishes from the counter and wash them. “He doesn’t talk much about his love life, but I knew from the way he spoke about you it was serious. He just can’t stop talking about you.”

I smiled, not really sure what to say. But I didn’t have to worry about that long, since Diana continued. “For a while, a period of a year or so, he was pretty sad. I hated to see him like that. Now, he just smiles all the time and that makes me so happy.” Diana turned to me and grabbed my hands with her soapy ones. “As a mother, I can’t thank you enough for that.”

Now I was really at a loss for words. Tom? Sad? “I don’t know what to say,” I responded. “Tom’s been really great for me, too. He’s very encouraging.” Diana kept staring at me, silently asking me for more. “It’s been rough getting back to swimming. I’m so used to excelling in everything that I do, I don’t really know what it’s like to lose. But it’s not so bad with Tom by my side.”

“I think you both are very good for each other,” she said, turning back to the dishes. “A good relationship needs that balance.” I wondered if she was speaking from experience, between her and Tom’s father. 

After our confessions, we grew into a heavy, albeit somewhat-comfortable, silence, finishing up the dishes. I didn’t really know where to go from here, so I responded the only way I knew how: through humor. 

“You know, Tom has been very reluctant in showing me baby pictures. Do you have any handy?”

“Do I?” She threw down the towel she was wiping her hands on and pulled me into the next room. She opened the doors of an dark oak cabinet that held tons of family photo albums and boxes. “Any particular year, dear?”

I just laughed. “You pick!”

“Ah, when he was seven. He was so adorable.” She yanked the green photo album from its shelf and carried it over to the nearby loveseat. The book was splayed across our legs, revealing the most adorable photos of Tom. The little boy in the picture had the blondest, curliest hair I had ever seen, followed by tiny freckles and popsicle-stained lips. “This was when we spent the day at the park. He had just received a toy sailboat and was so excited to play with it in the pond. Poor lad, lost it somewhere under the bridge.”

Diana showed me some of favorite photos of Tom, including one of him, his sisters and cousins during a family skit and another of him in a stage production when he was at school. It was amazing to see how similar he looked through all the years — freckles and all. 

We were in the middle of discussing his nine year old self’s choice of fashion — purple pants, a green top and yellow scarf — when Tom entered the house, stopping in his tracks after seeing the number of photo albums around us. 

“Mum! We talked about this!”


End file.
